


They Fall in Love Like This...

by SoftlyandSwiftly



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, Smut, like there's two seconds of angst, married young au, pure fluff, snapshots of their life together, they get married like a year or so after x factor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-15
Updated: 2015-04-15
Packaged: 2018-03-23 02:59:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 34,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3751930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoftlyandSwiftly/pseuds/SoftlyandSwiftly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Liam Payne meets Zayn Malik the day he auditions for the X Factor, and it's absolutely mental that Zayn is what he remembers most about that day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	They Fall in Love Like This...

**Author's Note:**

> So there was this post floating around tumblr awhile back that was a gif of Zayn and Liam gazing at each other in an interview and someone had written tags about a fic where Zayn and Liam get married young and so on. This is that fic. Hope no one minds that I went a bit crazy with it and wrote this. As always thanks for reading and let me know what you think! xx Taylor
> 
> (Also sidenote: I made a tumblr for my fic - softlyandswiftlyao3.tumblr.com)

_They meet like this –_

 

            Liam’s only sixteen when he auditions again for the X Factor and meets Zayn for the first time, and the story they later tell the media isn’t that far off from the truth except –

           

            They’re giggling as they leave the McDonald’s, and Liam’s got his arm thrown around this boy’s shoulders like they’ve known each other for years not hours, and it’s all a bit mad. Liam’s never made friends this easily, and he can’t believe this (beautiful) lad is into all of the same geeky shit he is. But he’s trying not to linger on it because Zayn – no, Zain Malik from Bradford, seventeen years old – doesn’t seem nearly as freaked out, and Liam doesn’t want to ruin it.

            Besides, if he’s being honest, this entire day has been a bit mad, totally mental. He thought he would be prepared for it, having auditioned before, but he wasn’t. Not at all, because Simon stood up. Simon stood up for his audition, and he swears his life hasn’t quite righted itself since.

            But he’s not complaining, especially not when Zayn buries his face into Liam’s shoulder to muffle his laughter.

            (And Liam tries to ignore the race of his heart and the flutter in his gut because he knows that he likes lads, has done since he was about thirteen, but he doesn’t want to ruin this by crushing ridiculously on a boy way out of his league. And he’s not here to start liking some boy he’s probably never going to see again. He’s here to sing, and if he happens to have made a friend – a possible best mate, his mind whispers treacherously – well then he’s certainly not going to fuck it up by trying something.)

            “Wicked mate,” Zayn breathes through another chuckle, tilting his chin up to grin at Liam.

            Liam stutters on a breath because shit Zayn is pretty, and it’s not normally a word he assigns to lads, but fuck if it doesn’t fit. With the sun catching the lighter hints of gold in Zayn’s eyes, Liam swears his heart pounds in his chest, and he’s never really considered himself a fan of poetry, but Zayn deserves poems written about him, and that’s cheesy as fuck.

            (But he’s been thinking it for hours now, ever since he stumbled into McDonald’s, and this gorgeous lad came up to him with a quiet smile that didn’t match the sharp beauty of his cheekbones, and Liam was gone before Zayn even sat down, if he’s being perfectly honest.)

            “‘M just saying,” Liam returns, after a pause that was only a bit too long. His smile is large enough to split his lips, but he can’t help it. “I’d get a Batman tattoo.” He absently thumbs over the yin and yang ink on Zayn’s wrist as he says it, and blinks slowly when he feels Zayn shudder.

            But then Zayn’s grinning even wider and playfully knocking Liam’s shoulder with his own, and Liam thinks he’s probably imagined it.

            “Green Lantern, all the way.”

            Liam laughs, loud and unabashed, and he’s never laughed this much in his life. He’s so glad, suddenly, that Zayn walked up to him with a tentative smile and a ‘is this seat taken’ that could’ve come straight from one of those romantic comedy movies that Liam doesn’t hate nearly as much as he pretends to.

            “Maybe,” he allows, dragging Zayn back in until he can press his nose to Zayn’s cheek (heart pounding louder when Zayn doesn’t pull away, because shit, he’s never connected with anyone like this) and breathe a giggle into Zayn’s skin. “Guess you’ll just have to wait and see if I get one.”

            “After the competition?” Zayn wonders, and that’s –

            They both halt their slow amble, coming to the abrupt realization that they’re meant to split up now, and _oh._ Liam remembers quite suddenly that he’s here for a competition, one where Zayn’s another competitor out of thousands, and he’ll probably never see him again.

            They stare at each other with wide eyes as the understanding flows between them, and it twists the knife in Liam’s gut a bit, that they can silently understand each other already.

            (And Liam doesn’t like to think about how alone he is most of the time, but looking at this boy, he can’t help but remember what it feels like because Zayn makes him feel important in a way he doesn’t really understand yet).

            “Hey, cheer up yeah?” Zayn knocks his shoulder into Liam’s. “We both got through the first rounds. We could be on the show together.”

            Liam has to laugh at the ridiculous way Zayn waggles his eyebrows, and if his stomach turns at the way Zayn pins his bottom lip between white teeth, then only Liam has to know that. “I’d kick your arse.”

            Zayn’s head tilts back with his laugh, exposing the column of his throat, and Liam can’t help but look.

            (And he swears he’s not usually this sexual, definitely not with ridiculously fit boys, but Zayn makes him crazy with want, and it’s not just because he’s beautiful. It’s everything about Zayn, and if Liam had to adjust himself a few times while they chatted, well that’s nobody else’s business.)

            Liam’s so distracted that he doesn’t even notice that Zayn’s back to looking at him. So he also completely fails to notice the way he’s focusing on Zayn’s lips until –

            “Liam?”

            His eyes snap guiltily up to Zayn’s, and he fights the blush crawling over his cheeks. “Yeah?”

            Zayn’s head tilts, his eyes flashing with something that Liam would almost call understanding, before he’s grinning. “I hope I see you again.”

            Liam forces out a slow breath because he has to breathe, even though his lungs are protesting because this is definitely a goodbye. Liam’s never been so reluctant to say goodbye before. “Yeah, same mate. Good luck.” He awkwardly offers his hand to shake because he’s not sure what else to do.

            Zayn’s eyebrow quirks as he scans Liam’s hand, and Liam suddenly feels self-conscious. “Zayn...?”

            Zayn’s eyes snap back to his and he bites his lips, brown eyes flitting over Liam’s face, and then he’s muttering, “Fuck it.”

            And Liam’s brow is wrinkling as Zayn leans in because what –

            But then Zayn’s lips press softly to his, and Liam’s breath hitches slightly, parting his lips just enough for Zayn’s to slot in. Zayn’s lips are soft, not at all chapped like Liam thought they might be, and they press gently but firmly to Liam’s as he tentatively moves his mouth, and Liam can’t breathe.

            It’s not Liam’s first kiss, but it feels like it is. Zayn’s lips fit naturally to his, the pressure soft and the glide smooth, and it all feels so natural in a way that no other kiss has as Zayn’s tongue gently sweeps Liam’s bottom lip like a hello, and Liam wants more, suddenly, starts to actually respond but –

Then it’s over, just a quick peck really, and it shouldn’t leave Liam’s heart thrumming, but he gapes at Zayn regardless.

            A slight flush decorates Zayn’s sharp cheekbones as he grins at Liam. “Sorry man, I just –”

            “I – No,” Liam stutters, one hand absently going to the back of his neck as he swipes a tongue over his bottom lip like he’s chasing the memory. “That was – I wanted it.” He flushes hard at the admission because he didn’t mean to sound so desperate about it.

            But Zayn’s grin widens. “Yeah?” he tilts his head, his feet inching closer, and Liam wants him to be even closer.

            (Which is completely manic because he hardly knows this boy. An hour spent over cheap food and a shared obsession with comic books shouldn’t mean so much, but it feels like it does. And Liam still can’t catch his breath from that kiss).

            “Yeah,” Liam sighs out, flush remaining under Zayn’s evaluating gaze.

            It’s silent between them for a moment, both unsure where to go now, and Liam wants to kiss this boy again, but he’s not sure he’s allowed. He’s not sure if he even should because he’s meant to be getting back, and Zayn’s basically a stranger, even though he certainly doesn’t feel like one, and Zayn’s not doing anything but staring at him now.

            Finally when Liam can’t stand the weight of Zayn’s eyes on him anymore he lets out a short chuckle and tangles one hand in Zayn’s shirt. He tugs Zayn into him, wrapping his other arm carelessly around the thinner boy.

            Zayn laughs as he fits himself to Liam’s body, and he buries his face in Liam’s neck like they’ve hugged a thousand times.

            “I hope I see you again,” Liam admits sheepishly, because he’s never done this with a lad, and he’s not sure what he’s meant to do.

            Zayn nods, dragging his cheek against Liam’s neck. “I think you’re gonna win mate.”

            Liam snorts, wants to deny it instantly, but he gets the feeling that Zayn would stand here and argue with him about it, and he doesn’t –

            He’s still not sure what he’s doing with this lad from Bradford, and he doesn’t want to ruin the moment.

            So he squeezes Zayn tighter to his body before letting go. Pressing a quick kiss to Zayn’s cheek that he tries not to flush over, Liam grins. “Good luck, yeah?”

            Zayn laughs again, nodding as he rubs one hand through his hair. “Good luck.”

            And Liam backs away, facing Zayn like a dork because he doesn’t want to turn away yet. Zayn rolls his eyes at him, chuckling when Liam stumbles because he isn’t practiced at walking backward. Liam thinks he’d be horribly embarrassed with himself, but Zayn’s eyes are still shining like he doesn’t think Liam’s an idiot, and he should leave this boy behind. He should focus on the competition, and his hopeful future, and he swears he will. He’ll put this boy and this past hour behind him, but he just wants to hold onto it for a little while longer.

 

* * *

 

_They get together like this –_

Liam’s just turned seventeen when he’s forced into a boy band with Zayn, and it’s torture at first, but then it becomes amazing because –

 

            “You haven’t kissed me.”

            Liam’s head snaps up, and he instantly focuses on Zayn, who blushes and fidgets in the doorway but doesn’t look away. He’s got a worn Batman shirt on, and he tugs on the hem in a nervous habit that Liam didn’t mean to catalogue, but he notices everything about Zayn.

            (Notices the way he always sleeps with his lips slightly parted, the way he’s nearly always got one ear bud in, the way he can’t sit perfectly still, has to have one body part always in motion, and Liam’s driving himself crazy noticing all of this because he and Zayn are _bandmates_ now, and he really can’t muck it up with his – slight – crush.)

            “What?” Liam winces at how surprised he sounds, but he can’t help it. He’s surprised to see Zayn at all, honestly, because they’ve been in this house (the freaking X Factor house) for weeks now, and he and Zayn haven’t talked. Sure they’ve spoken, because now they’re in a band together, and everyone wants to bond and the other three lads always rope them all together, but it hasn’t just been Liam and Zayn. Not until now.

            Zayn bites his lip and takes a hesitant step inside the practice room where Liam was definitely not (but absolutely) hiding. “You haven’t kissed me. You haven’t even tried – and I just thought, well.”

            “But you – at the bungalow – I thought –” Liam’s tripping over his own tongue, hands tugging anxiously through his painfully straight hair, because he thought this was _over._

            Over because at Harry’s dad’s place when they were packed off to become a band or whatever, Zayn had walked up to Liam and Liam’s pitiful heart had raced and he had thought, _this is it._ But then Zayn had just smiled easily at him and asked if he minded not getting sausage on the pizza, and then he’d clapped Liam on the shoulder and said he was excited for them all to become mates.

            And Liam swears that he’s okay with it. Sure in that moment his heart had shriveled a bit, but Liam’s used to that. He’s used to falling just a bit short of what he actually wants, he swears. So he shrugged it off and took the friendship Zayn was offering him and moved on.

            Or well, tried to, but Liam’s rubbish at controlling himself, and he knows he favors Zayn over the other three, and he’s trying hard to fight that, but it’s going to take some time.

            Time that he apparently doesn’t have because Zayn’s _here_ now, asking about the kiss.

            “I just,” Zayn starts, rubbing his hands on the material of his trousers like his palms are sweating, like he’s _nervous,_ but that makes no sense. Liam hasn’t seen Zayn nervous since their first performance. “I mean I kissed you mate. I don’t usually – but I thought you were into me, I guess? So I kissed you, but if you weren’t – well – then you should’ve just said.”

            And Liam, he can’t even process that really. _Zayn thinks he didn’t want the kiss? Is he joking?_ Because of course Liam wanted Zayn to kiss him. Of course. Zayn looks like a bloody model with his hair and his stupid face, and Liam’s never wanted someone as much as he’s sure he wants Zayn. But Liam’s also _sure_ that Zayn can’t possibly want him in the same way, not nerdy bullied Liam. No way.

            Zayn’s staring at him with a carefully blank face, and Liam’s begun to admire the way that Zayn can hide his emotions. It comes off as arrogance, he knows, but it isn’t really. Zayn’s just, he’s shy, less open than the other boys; it takes him longer to relax around someone, and Liam hadn’t known that until they got into this competition because Zayn had seemed so confident that day they met.

            (And it’s alarming, the way that Liam still fancies him even though he’s shy. Maybe even more because he’s shy. But then Liam’s beginning to think that there isn’t anything Zayn could do that would make Liam stop fancying him so...)

            “Of course I wanted to kiss you,” Liam blurts.

            Zayn opens his mouth but closes it before saying anything, looking uncertain for the first time since he came into the practice room.

            And Liam, he can’t take the silence. It unsettles him until he’s babbling before he can stop himself, “I didn’t think – you didn’t say so. I don’t know Zayn. And we’re competing so – I just, I thought you wanted to forget about it.”

            Zayn’s dark eyes widen in surprised hurt, and he’s stepping back towards the doorway. “Did you want to forget about it?”

            Liam chokes on an inhale, wants to disappear into the freaking ground because that was not what he meant at all, and Christ, he’s really messing this up. Of course he is though; he’s who he always has been, terribly awkward and unwanted. So he’s still not sure what Zayn’s doing here, but he’s too deep to back out now.

            (Even if his racing heart begs him to laugh it all off, pretend it never happened, like this conversation doesn’t even matter because that would be far easier).

            “Of course not,” Liam mutters, looking down and scuffing the toe of his trainer against the wood floor until it squeaks out a protest. “Probably couldn’t forget even if I tried.”

            He refuses to look up from the floor, his cheeks burning with embarrassment, and he probably shouldn’t have added that last part. But it feels so true. The kiss has burned in the back of Liam’s mind for weeks now, crowding out all other thoughts. Like now, all Liam can remember is the soft press of Zayn’s lips, how it felt a bit off because his lips were so much thinner than any girls’ but how Liam had just wanted more, and Liam’s so focused on reliving that (wonderful) memory that he doesn’t hear Zayn walking towards him.

            He jumps when Zayn’s shoes come into his view, forcing himself to calm down as he studies the drawings on them. He wonders how long he can admire the doodles in harsh sharpie on Zayn’s feet, but his answer comes when Zayn’s fingers edge under his chin, knocking it up.

            Liam swallows against his suddenly dry mouth when he meets Zayn’s warm brown eyes, and he stupidly thinks of swirls of caramel because Zayn’s eyes aren’t one shade of brown. They’re a whole range of the color, and Liam can’t look away.

            “Leeyum,” Zayn drags out his name in his accent, and Liam tries not to noticeably shudder, but he knows he fails. Zayn’s eyes sparkle (literally freaking sparkle) at that, and Liam’s helpless against the slow drag of Zayn’s grin.

            “I like you.”

            Liam flinches, trying to drop his chin, but Zayn’s fingers don’t move. He hadn’t meant to say that, but well it’s true. It’s been true since that first conversation in McDonald’s, but it feels even more real now with weeks of interactions between them. Liam fancies Zayn.

            “Do you?” Zayn mutters, fingers absently rubbing against Liam’s chin.

            Liam’s eyes dart up in confusion because – “Of course.” Who wouldn’t like Zayn? But he sees it now, as he finally actually looks at Zayn. He sees the uncertainty and the slight embarrassment, and _oh._

            Zayn looks just as nervous as Liam is, like he feels the same way, and that’s – Liam can’t hide his surprise at that because even though he knows now that Zayn’s shy, he still thought he was confident, more confident than Liam at least.

            Liam’s hand comes up hesitantly, fitting softly to Zayn’s hip, and he tilts forward just a bit. “Of course I like you Zayn.”

            Zayn grins, barely there blush staining his cheeks. “I like you too Li.”

            And it’s stupid and immature, but Liam’s heart races at the admission like they’re only thirteen with their first crush, but Liam doesn’t care. He doesn’t care because Zayn actually _likes_ him.

            Without thought, Liam presses forward, the kiss slightly off center because he rushed into it. Liam goes to pull back, mentally cringing for being so eager, but Zayn sighs against his lips, shuffling forward until he’s pressed more firmly against Liam. His lips part, and then he tilts his head a bit, changing the angle of the kiss and – _wow._

            Its soft heat and a rush of feelings flooding Liam’s gut as Zayn kisses him like he means it. Liam presses harder into his grip on Zayn’s hip, dragging the other boy closer as he tries to match the pressure of Zayn’s lips. Zayn’s bottom lip slides between Liam’s, and Liam swipes a curious tongue along it as Zayn sighs out again, fingers moving from Liam’s chin to cradle his jaw with one hand. They shift together, lips still moving slowly like they’re mapping out where they want to go, and it’s –

            It’s a lot for Liam to take in honestly because he’s never been kissed like this before.

            Zayn pulls back finally with reluctance, eyes searching Liam’s face, and Liam can feel the stupid grin pushing his cheeks until his eyes crinkle with it. Zayn lets out a startled but genuine laugh, fingers staying splayed along Liam’s neck, and Liam wonders if Zayn can feel the fast flutter of his pulse.

            “You like me?” Liam wonders, mostly teasing but also needing that reassurance.

            Zayn rolls his eyes but fists his other hand into Liam’s shirt. “Yes.”

            “Good.”

            And Liam kisses Zayn again because he can. Because he wants to. Because Zayn may have made the first move twice now, but Liam’ll be damned if he doesn’t even that out.

 

* * *

 

_They start dating like this –_

 

Liam’s still just seventeen when they’ve made it all the way to the final three, and the adrenaline is flowing through his veins after the announcement so he doesn’t fight Zayn at all when the older boy drags him off to the showers after the show –

 

            “You were, fuck – amazing,” Zayn breathes, tongue tracing Liam’s neck until he reaches the birthmark, sucking lightly at the darker skin.

            Liam’s breath hitches, and his fingers scramble at Zayn’s bare shoulders, looking for purchase because he definitely needs something to hold onto. “So were, God, so were you,” he stutters out, hips pressing forward unconsciously at the sweet pressure from Zayn’s mouth against his wet skin.

            Zayn chuckles, never moving his lips away as he continues to assault Liam’s neck and chest with swift kisses because he can’t leave marks.

            They never leave marks, and Liam tries not to feel disappointed about that because it shouldn’t matter. It shouldn’t matter when Zayn jumps him every time they’re alone in a room together, when Liam knows the shape of Zayn’s lips better than his own now, when they’ve exchanged sloppy morning hand jobs while the others slept, and it’s great. Seriously, everything about this thing with Zayn is amazing, so Liam shouldn’t be disappointed that nobody else knows about it.

            (But he kind of is, even though he knows why they keep it a secret, even though he _agrees_ that they should keep it a secret).

            “You’re thinking too hard babe,” Zayn mutters, moving up until he’s level with Liam again, lips teasingly brushing but not actually kissing. Zayn’s deft hands slide down Liam’s sides, making him shudder, before they rest on Liam’s hips, and Liam gasps when Zayn slots their hips together, feeling Zayn’s bare cock against his own.

            “Fuck, Zayn –” he nearly whines, and then flushes because only Zayn has ever managed to turn him into a begging mess, and he’d be more upset about it if Zayn didn’t absolutely love it.

            True to form, Zayn grins, eyes dancing, at Liam’s breathless voice. “Can’t believe we made it the final three,” he whispers, lips almost snagging against Liam’s. “It’s all you, babe. Honestly, we’d have been booted off long ago if it wasn’t for you, and tonight. Christ, Liam you looked amazing, and your voice –”

            Liam slams their mouths together harshly because he can’t. He can’t listen to Zayn praise him like that, in that throaty voice he has whenever they’re fooling around. It drives him insane, the way Zayn gets sometimes, all cocky and controlling and fond somehow. It’s maddening, and Liam wishes it was because this is all new for him, but he’s pretty that it’s just _Zayn._ So he hungrily kisses Zayn to shut him up and because he wants to.

            Zayn laughs again as he pulls back from Liam, their lips making a loud noise, and Liam groans because he wants to keep kissing Zayn.

            “Don’t complain,” Zayn mutters, still grinning at Liam. “D’you really think I dragged you to the showers just to snog?”

            “No,” Liam pouts. “Figured we were naked for a reason.”

            Zayn laughs, muffling it in Liam’s neck, and Liam can’t help but grin as his fingers trace Zayn’s bare back, water still sliding over them both. He loves that he makes Zayn laugh, feels a weird sense of pride every time he manages it.

            “Why did you drag us here though?” he wonders out loud because it’s been bothering him. It’s not uncommon for Zayn to drag him off somewhere after a show, the adrenaline surging through them both until they just need a release. But usually they sneak off to an empty room, for snogging and the occasional quick hand job because, in this house, there’s no telling how long they’ll have alone.

            So when Zayn had latched onto him and muttered something to the others about them showering off the sweat, Liam had been a bit confused. They’ve showered together before (one wonderful morning where Liam came so hard his vision went fuzzy) but still.

            “Wanted the privacy,” Zayn admits, pressing a short kiss to Liam’s neck before he pulls back. Liam blinks at Zayn’ face, hair falling down from the steam of the shower, and he suddenly thinks that the shower was a brilliant idea. Zayn looks soft like this, his eyes warm as he stares at Liam.

            “Oh yeah?” Liam teases, hands dipping lower until he’s cupping Zayn’s bum. Zayn’s eyes go a bit darker at that and Liam tries not to think about how they haven’t gotten that far yet (because there’s no privacy and because it’s only been a few weeks). “And what exactly do we need the privacy for, Mr. Malik?”

            Zayn rolls his eyes again, one hand reaching back to tangle in Liam’s damp curls. Zayn’s got a bit of a thing for them Liam thinks, always running his hands through them and tugging lightly as he does now, pouting with Liam to get him to stop straightening his hair every morning. Liam shifts at the slight pressure, his cock jumping where it’s still pressed against Zayn’s with their feet entangled, and Zayn bites his lip to hold back a smile.

            Liam’s thinking that he should really get Zayn back (probably by biting at his collarbone since he discovered a couple weeks ago how much Zayn likes that) when Zayn finally replies, “Wanted the privacy so I could blow you.”

            And Liam’s brain short circuits. He feels his mouth fall open, but he can’t seem to close it as he stares wide-eyed at Zayn.

            Zayn flushes, just slightly, but he determinedly doesn’t look away.

            Liam gulps, clearing his throat, and mutters, “Oh.” His voice comes out rough and weak which seems to build Zayn’s confidence because his uncertainty falls away. “I – really?” Liam questions, voice high because he’s still so surprised.

            “Yeah,” Zayn admits, fingers slowly tracing down Liam’s neck, over his chest. “‘ve been thinking about it for a while now, so I thought tonight...but only if you want to of course.”

            Liam can’t control the disbelieving laugh that leaves his throat. “Of course I want to.”

            Zayn grins, smirking up at Liam through his ridiculously long eyelashes. “Yeah?”

            “Yeah, I-I mean, if you w-want,” Liam stutters, cock jumping again just at the thought of Zayn’s lips wrapped around it.

            Zayn hums, pressing his lips to Liam’s chest, tongue darting out to trace his muscle as he shifts a bit lower. “Well,” he drags out, “I’d only want to if you were really sure...”

            Liam’s breath hitches as Zayn drops lower, kisses just below his navel, and then lower still until Zayn’s on his knees. Liam can’t rip his eyes away from the sight of Zayn on his knees on the shower floor, blinking up at Liam like he’s the picture of innocence as water clings to his lashes, and Liam just –

            “Fuck.”

            Zayn smirks and Liam knows it’s because Zayn loves that Liam only curses when they’re getting each other off. He leans forward, hot breath ghosting over Liam’s flushed cock as he presses a kiss just to the right of where Liam suddenly and desperately wants his lips.

            “Zayn.” It comes out as a whine, and Liam can’t even deny it. Zayn turns him into a wreck every time, but this is worse. Worse because Liam’s never done this, any of this, because Zayn’s so stunning and for some reason wants Liam, because it’s all so much in such a short amount of time, and Liam’s still not convinced it’s all real. He feels more than hears Zayn’s chuckle as he repeats the kiss on the other side, completely ignoring Liam’s painfully hard cock. “Zayn, ple –” he chokes over the word when Zayn wraps his lips around the head with no warning. “Jesus Christ!”

            Zayn hums around Liam’s dick like he wants to chuckle, but he can’t because he’s steadily sinking lower. A desperate noise leaves Liam’s throat as he stares down at the older boy, struck by the vision of Zayn’s lips spread around his thickness, sinking lower. His breath comes harsher as Zayn’s hand comes up to wrap around the base of Liam’s dick.

            Experimentally, Zayn pumps Liam as he continues to sink lower, until his fingers meet his lips, and Liam whines. Zayn’s cheeks hollow, cheekbones sinful from this angle, and Liam knows he’s going to have to look away. When Zayn’s tongue suddenly swipes over the head, foreskin pulled back by Zayn’s hand, Liam gasps.

            Zayn drags off, pressure firm, making a wet noise as Liam’s cock pops free. “So sensitive babe,” he mutters, and Liam’s mind stops working he swears because Zayn’s _voice_ –

            “Zayn.”

            His head tilts, eyes evaluating, before he grins. “Shit, Li, you really like this yeah? My voice?”

            “Zayn,” Liam tries to keep his voice polite, but he just wants to thrust his hips forward, Zayn’s loose grip around his dick not nearly enough.

            Zayn laughs lightly again, but immediately ducks his head. He sucks harder this time, staying wrapped around just the head as he tongues at the slit, and Liam groans. “So wet, babe,” Zayn mutters, pulling back only slightly before descending again, going farther.

            Liam wants to respond, truly he does, but he can’t even think. His entire world has narrowed down to the warm pressure of Zayn’s lips, the firm grip of his hand as he pumps Liam in time with the bobbing of his head, picking up a rhythm. And it’s far too much, watching Zayn’s lips dragging over the sensitive skin, tongue tracing the thick vein, and Liam’s head falls back.

            “Zayn,” he moans, hands coming up to cradle Zayn’s head, and he’s careful, so careful, not to press Zayn any farther forward, but Zayn picks up his pace anyways. His tongue trails the underside of Liam’s dick as he bobs, eyelashes fluttering like he’s getting off on it, and Liam should definitely look away or he’s going to cum.

            He means to, really he does because it’s embarrassing how close he is already, but then he sees Zayn’s free forearm flexing, and _oh._

Zayn’s wanking himself off, letting out a low moan with Liam’s cock in his mouth, and Liam’s cock twitches because fuck. Fuck Zayn’s getting off on this.

            “Christ, Zayn. I can’t,” Liam tries, barely able to keep his hips still because all he wants is to thrust into the tight wet heat of Zayn’s mouth. He adjusts so that he can see Zayn’s fingers wrapped around his own cock, flushed and wet with precum, and Liam swears his own dick grows harder at the sight.

            Zayn’s pumping himself in time with the bobbing of his head, not moving his hand wrapped around Liam’s cock now because his lips are doing all the work, and Liam’s gasping, dragging in lungfuls of air that still aren’t enough.

            “Zayn, I’m gonna – please I can’t –”

            Zayn drags off, his hand once more moving over the length of Liam’s dick, and his voice is wrecked when he says, “C’mon Li. Cum.”

            And Liam’s never cum on command before, but fuck, Zayn’s voice and the swift motion of his hands on both their dicks, and Liam’s gone. He calls Zayn’s name as he cums, head thrown back so he misses it when Zayn whimpers and follows him over the edge of orgasm.

            His hands comb through Zayn’s hair as the older boy slumps forward, head resting on Liam’s hips as he breathes harshly, and Liam’s fairly certain the only reason he’s standing right now is because of the wall he’s shoved up against.

            “Zayn, that was –”

            The shower curtain’s ripped aside, and Liam yelps, hand going to cover his dick out of instinct and –

            “Oh my God.”

            Zayn scrambles backward, nearly landing on his ass until Liam catches him, pulling him up instinctively. “Harry what the fuck?” he hisses, covering himself and shifting to stand in front of Liam, who can feel the bright red flush covering his face.

            Harry’s gaping at them, bright green eyes sparkling and that’s... weird, Liam thinks. Until Harry opens his mouth again and then, “I can’t believe you two are fucking. I can’t believe you two are fucking in our shower.”

            And Liam wishes he was more surprised at the amused joy in Harry’s voice, but he’s honestly not. Of course Harry would find this situation funny. He looks delighted.

            “Harry, we weren’t –”

            “Don’t even start Liam James Payne,” Harry levels a finger at him in a mannerism scarily like Louis. “Zayn was on his knees. I know he just blew you.”

            Liam squeaks, and Zayn sighs like this is only mildly annoying, but Liam can see the blush just under his skin.

            “Haz,” Zayn starts, brow wrinkled.

            “Oh no,” Harry cuts him off, still looking too pleased with this recent development. “We are definitely having a band meeting about this. Finish up and come out. Literally.”

            With one last cackle (at his awful joke most likely) Harry nearly skips out of the bathroom.

            Liam just gapes at the door. He can’t believe he didn’t hear Harry come in. He can’t believe Harry caught them. He can’t believe Harry didn’t leave immediately.

            “What are the odds, d’you think, of Louis letting this go once Haz tells him?” Zayn asks, casual as anything.

            Liam gulps, water trickling down his nose from the running shower. “Nonexistent.”

            Zayn slumps back against Liam, letting his head fall back against his shoulder. “Ya that’s what I thought. How long do you think we can hide in here before Harry comes back?”

            Liam’s arms wrap around Zayn, pulling his back closer to his own chest. “Ten more minutes. At least, right?”

            Zayn shrugs, turning his nose into Liam’s neck. “Guess we’ll find out.”

 

            They do eventually force themselves out of the shower, but only because the water runs cold, and Zayn hates the cold. Liam’s pretty sure he could’ve stuck it out for another five minutes.

            Even now, toweled off and dressed, Liam thinks a cold shower would be preferable to what they’re about to do.

            Zayn’s eyeing the door, hair sticking up every which way from the towel Liam had rubbed through it while laughing. His lips are cherry red from the kisses Liam couldn’t help as he frowns. “Think we could sneak out and hide somewhere?”

            “For the rest of competition?” Liam teases.

            Zayn throws his towel at him, Liam catching it with a short laugh. “I wouldn’t mind hiding out with you.”

            Liam melts, crowding closer to Zayn until the other boy’s backed into the counter. The smile tugging at Liam’s lips forces the kiss he presses to Zayn’s mouth to be short, but he can’t help it. He just – he really likes this boy. “I wouldn’t mind that either.”

            Zayn’s fingers tangle in the hem of Liam’s shirt, dragging him between his legs. “Yeah? We should do that then.”

            Liam nods, ducking to bury his head in Zayn’s neck and inhale the fresh scent of his own body wash.  “Definitely should.”

            They stay like that for a moment, Liam pressed into every pocket of Zayn’s body, and he can’t lie to himself; it’s so much easier to breathe when he’s wrapped up in Zayn like this. So he truly can’t help the whine that leaves his mouth when Zayn gently pushes him away after another moment.

            Zayn’s lips quirk in a slight smile, one finger reaching up to trace Liam’s bottom lip. “C’mon. Can’t find a place to hide if we don’t leave.”

            Liam tangles his fingers with Zayn’s, letting the other boy take the lead, and he’s already planning where they could go when Zayn tugs the door open.

            And then promptly shouts and stumbles back into Liam.

            Liam catches him automatically, glancing past Zayn and –

            Louis grins back at them, pure evil wrapped up in a slight frame, and he’s flanked by (a slightly uncomfortable) Niall and (a still delighted) Harry.

            “Thought you might try to hide,” Louis says conversationally. “So we decided we’d have the band meeting at the scene of the crime.”

            “Fuck off,” Zayn rolls his eyes. “It wasn’t –”

            Louis ignores him and shoves his way into the bathroom, forcing both Liam and Zayn to stumble back into the counter. “It most certainly was the scene of a crime. You killed Harry’s virgin eyes.”

            “Harry doesn’t have virgin eyes,” Liam snorts.

            “Fine,” Louis shrugs, squaring off against them. “But you’re definitely responsible for the death of Niall’s virgin ears.”

            Liam flushes but frowns. “We weren’t that loud.”

            Harry laughs, and Louis’s clearly fighting a smile as Niall looks a bit green. “Harry described the incident in graphic detail.”

            “Well then, Harry’s responsible for that,” Zayn argues, crossing his arms and glaring at the other three boys. “Also we are not doing this in here.”

            “Too late,” Niall answers, shutting the door behind him and then leaning against it. He shrugs when Zayn shoots him a disbelieving look. “Louis’s orders.”

            “You’ve got to be fu –”

            “Language young Malik,” Louis reprimands.

            “Fuck off, Lou.”

            Harry winces. “No, really, can we maybe not say that word? I mean, you two did, in the shower which is just –” he gestures at the shower.

            Liam thinks he’s going to turn a permanent shade of red if he keeps blushing like this.

            “Now you’re concerned with that?” Zayn demands. “You literally ripped the curtain open earlier.”

            Harry shrugs. “Wasn’t sure I was hearing it right. Had to check and make sure it really was you two.”

            “You knew we were in the bathroom,” Liam mumbles.

            “Ya, but when you two took off to shower, we assumed you meant separate showers,” Louis shoots back, frowning now.

            In fact, as Liam glances between the three boys, he realizes that they all look a bit serious. Which is just, really uncommon for them. It makes his stomach twist, and he scoots closer to Zayn automatically. Zayn stiffens as the other three scan them, and it’s unsettling, the way they’re studying both of them. Liam wants to yell at them to stop, but he bites his lip.

            “What?” he asks instead, only coming off as slightly defensive.

            “How long has this been going on then?” Niall asks, wiggling a finger between the two of them.

            Liam cuts a look over to Zayn, who still looks irritated and like he’s not going to say anything. So Liam hesitantly speaks, “Since the second week of shows.”

            All three boys look surprised at that.

            “Are you serious?” Louis demands, irritation taking over his striking blue eyes. “You’ve been fucking around the whole time?”

            “Not – not the whole time,” Liam tries, hunching his shoulders and looking at his bare feet. His toes curl against the tile, and he sort of just wants to disappear. “We, uh, we kissed the second week, and then, uh, it kind of just grew from there? I mean, we’re still, uh, mates. It’s not like we lied.”

            “But you didn’t tell us,” Harry says softly, green eyes kind but sad when Liam looks up again. “Why didn’t you just tell us?”

            “It wasn’t...” Liam trails off, frustrated because he doesn’t have the words for this. “Look, it just sort of happened. We didn’t think we were going to see each other again after we met, so when we kissed it wasn’t–”

            “You two kissed the day you met?” Niall asks, eyebrow hitching in surprise, but a slight grin tugs at his mouth. “You kissed at the McDonald’s then? Really? That’s kind of cute.”

            “Niall,” Louis scolds, though his eyes have softened a bit. “That’s not the point. The point is that these two have been fucking around, and it could affect the band.”

            “It’s not going to affect the band,” Zayn cuts in, speaking for the first time in what feels like ages. Liam tries not to frown at Zayn’s easy tone, like it doesn’t even matter.

            (That’s not what Zayn’s saying, he knows. It’s just – Zayn’s not saying much, not about them, and Liam’s not sure if... well, he’s just not sure what that means. And his traitorous mind is telling him that it wouldn’t be the first time someone hasn’t wanted to claim Liam publicly...)

            “It could,” Louis argues, looking stern again, and Liam realizes that this is a real band meeting. This isn’t just the others giving them a hard time; Louis’s genuinely worried about the future of the band because of this. The realization makes Liam feel guilty.

            “It hasn’t yet,” Zayn argues back, frowning at Louis like he’s also just realized that this is serious. “You guys didn’t even know so why does it matter now?”

            “Because if you two decide to stop fucking around, or you actually date someone, or one of you gets jealous or wants more or well, anything,” Louis exclaims, throwing his hands up. “Anything could happen, and then where would we be? It would change things!”

            Liam wants to cut in, wants to say that none of that would ever happen. He’s certainly not going to stop this anytime soon, and he’s not going to want to date anyone else, but then he stops himself. He stops himself because he’s not sure if Zayn feels that way too.

            (And he ignores the little thrum of pain at that.)

            “It won’t change things,” Zayn shoots back, arms still folded over his chest as he glares at Louis. “We wouldn’t let it. It’s me and Liam. We’re mates, man. Like beyond this.”

            “We aren’t saying that you two aren’t friends,” Harry cuts in, laying a hand on Louis’s shoulder. “But there’s a reason that most workplaces don’t let coworkers fraternize. It’s going to complicate things.”

            “Fraternize?” Niall questions.

            “Fuck,” Louis clarifies. “Harry means fuck. As in bandmates should not fuck each other because –”

            “We’re dating.”

            It’s said so quietly, but it still manages to cut through the air and stop Louis cold. Louis blinks, mouth open, and he glances at Liam.

            Liam, who is frozen against the counter, just as confused as Louis because he didn’t say that. He definitely didn’t say that they were dating because he doesn’t know. He doesn’t know if they are, but someone just said –

            Zayn’s arms come down, and he tangles his fingers with Liam’s like it’s the easiest thing in the world. He bites at his bottom lip as Liam blinks dumbly at him, but he doesn’t look uncertain. “We’re dating,” Zayn repeats, eyes just focused on Liam now. “We are dating. It’s more than just fucking. It was never – it’s more, okay? We’re dating.”

            And Liam can feel the smile pulling at his lips before he’s even fully processed what Zayn’s said because – they’re dating. Zayn thinks they’re dating, and it’s what Liam had hoped they were doing, but he wasn’t sure. He wasn’t sure because no one’s ever wanted him to be their boyfriend before, but now Zayn’s saying that he does. _They’re dating._

            An answering smile tugs at Zayn’s mouth, and it’s not as full as Liam’s, but it’s there. And Zayn looks happy as he pulls gently at their tangled fingers, as if he’s reinforcing his statement. “We’re dating,” he repeats, finally turning away from Liam to glare at Louis. “So it’s not just us fucking about, alright? It’s... like it’s real man, okay?”

            Louis’s still gaping at them, and Harry’s got hearts for eyes, so it’s Niall that actually responds.

            He laughs and steps forward, clapping Zayn on the shoulder. Liam tries not to frown at the way it rocks Zayn’s slight frame, because Zayn’s grinning back at Niall. “Congratulations, lads!” Niall bellows, laughing with it. “Good on ya!”

            Liam echoes Niall’s laugh, his blush finally fading under the warmth of his friend’s welcome, and he pulls Zayn in closer, burying his grin into Zayn’s loose hair as he wraps him in his arms.

            “Aw,” Harry coos. “Look at the two of you! You’re cute!”

            “Shut up,” Zayn mutters, but he doesn’t pull away from Liam. He cuddles closer, returning Liam’s embrace, their clasped hands trapped between them.

            Liam’s face feels tight with the force of his smile, but it’s not fading. His eyes crinkle with joy because Zayn’s grinning back at him, and he feels lighter. He hadn’t even realized that he felt weighed down, but he definitely feels lighter now.

            “Lou.”

            Liam glances over just in time to see Harry knocking Louis with his shoulder, prompting the oldest boy to snap his mouth shut finally. Liam refuses to shrink under Louis’s evaluating gaze, can feel Zayn stiffen in his embrace, but then Louis grins.

            “Ya, alright, fine,” Louis relents. “You two are dating.” Harry knocks him again, and Louis rolls his eyes. “And yes, you are pretty cute, I guess.”

            Liam laughs, feels Zayn do the same as he buries his face in Liam’s shoulder. And it’s – it’s great actually. He tugs on Zayn’s hand until he looks up, and then Liam presses forward, kissing Zayn gently. It doesn’t turn heated, mostly because Liam’s smiling far too much for that, but he can feel Zayn’s lips pressing back, and they’re trading laughs with air as they kiss, and it’s just really great.

            “Ugh,” Niall groans good-naturedly. “Now we’re going to have to put up with this shit, aren’t we?”

            Liam pulls back, resting his forehead against Zayn’s because he refuses to put anymore distance between them. Zayn grins back, not retreating.

            “It’s cute!” Harry defends.

            “It’s gross,” Louis corrects. “And I’m definitely not the one who’s going to tell Simon.”

            Liam and Zayn both groan at that, and Louis cackles, and Niall and Harry wince in commiseration, and it’s just... it feels right.

            It feels right, and Zayn’s Liam’s boyfriend now, and everything is okay.

* * *

 

_They sleep together for the first time like this –_

Liam’s still just seventeen when they lose the X Factor, but the harsh bite of loss is short-lived because Simon signs them anyways, and then it’s January and they’re in some hotel, working on a brand new album, their own album, and Liam’s life hasn’t stopped spinning, but he’s still got Zayn and it’s just like this –

 

            “We could break up.”

            Liam freezes for just a moment, one arm still thrown over his eyes where he’s sprawled out on the bed because no – did Zayn just say? But –

            But then his mind catches up, hears the teasing note in Zayn’s voice, and his racing heart stills as Liam shifts his arm to glare at Zayn. “That’s not funny.”

            Zayn’s grin is easy, eyes glinting with amusement from where he’s leaning against the open bathroom doorway. “Who says I’m joking?”

            If it were a few weeks ago, if it was anyone but Zayn, Liam might actually be upset by Zayn’s suggestion, but he trusts Zayn. He trusts Zayn completely because after being shoved together in a house and on a live competition and then throwing in a relationship, he’s sure there isn’t anyone alive that knows him better than Zayn knows him. And he’s fairly certain it’s mutual. That instant connection he felt with Zayn hasn’t faded at all, and best mates doesn’t begin to cover what they are, but it is the base of their relationship, which is a good thing, Liam’s pretty sure, not that he’s actually had any other relationship to compare it to.

            So Liam’s not worried about Zayn’s suggestion, doesn’t even allow himself to doubt for a minute (and that’s possibly Zayn’s fault as well because Zayn hates that Liam gets self-conscious and withdrawn, hates when Liam doesn’t think he’s good enough, and it will always be burned in Liam’s mind, the first time Zayn fiercely kissed him after he’d voiced an insecurity and said, ‘You’re so much better than everyone else, Li. One day I’ll make you see it.’ And yeah it was cheesy, but Liam’s a sap, and Zayn had _meant_ it).

            “Your voice says you’re joking,” he answers, not even sure if that actually makes sense, but Zayn laughs like it does.

            “Maybe I’m serious.” Zayn tries to school his face into his trademark pout, the one Liam teases him about, but his top lip keeps twitching, making Liam snort.

            “You’re never serious,” he mutters, voice overly fond because he knows this boy. He knows Zayn so well, sees parts of him that Zayn keeps hidden from the world. And it’s insane how quickly Liam’s fallen for him, how fast he feels like they’re moving because he feels like one half of a whole that only Zayn completes, and the others calls them dangerously codependent and management...

            Management calls them just plain dangerous.

            Liam’s smile slips, and he knows that Zayn sees it because he’s moving forward before Liam can fully process everything. Zayn’s scrambling up the bed, all gangly limbs and lack of grace, but it still makes Liam’s heart jump when Zayn climbs over him. He hovers over Liam on the bed, knees digging into the mattress on either side of Liam’s hips as his hands frame Liam’s head, and Zayn feels so close like this.

            “Forget them,” Zayn commands, all dark eyes and a fuck you attitude that Liam wishes he could have.

            Liam’s hands travel up and press at Zayn’s waist, anchoring him above Liam. It all feels so natural, everything they do, like this is how it’s meant to be (cheesy, he knows) so Liam doesn’t understand why management doesn’t see this as a good thing.

            But they don’t.

            Christ they don’t.

            “Can’t forget them,” Liam sighs. “We work with them.”

            Zayn frowns. “We could quit.”

            That startles a laugh out of Liam, clearly Zayn’s intent as he quirks a smile as well. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

            “What’s ridiculous is management’s homophobic view,” Zayn mutters rebelliously.

            And Liam doesn’t argue that because he agrees with Zayn. Liam thinks it’s ridiculous that management won’t let them come out. He thinks it’s ridiculous that management won’t let them admit they’re in a relationship. And he thinks it’s really ridiculous that management claims he and Zayn ‘aren’t serious enough.’

            Like just because they’re both young and falling hard for the first time, what they have isn’t real. Like they’re being naïve. Like what they have has an expiration date.

            It twists Liam’s stomach and makes him question this life he’s just signed on for, and he hates it. He hates that he’s being told he can’t have Zayn and One Direction too.

            Zayn sinks down lower, pressing his body against Liam’s. “Hey,” his voice is soft, features going fond as he gazes at Liam, and it stops Liam’s heartbeat sometimes, how easily Zayn shows his affection like this. “Li, it’ll be alright.”

            Liam sighs, hands gripping Zayn’s hips harder. “They want us to hide it, Zayn. Actually, no. They really want us to break up. But since we won’t, they want us to hide it, pretend like we aren’t in a relationship.”

            “I know, Leeyum,” Zayn echoes, sad but still so fond as he looks at Liam. “And I hate it too, babe, but if it means I still get to keep you then I don’t care.”

            “Yeah?” Liam can’t quite keep the note of insecurity out of his voice, and Zayn’s eyes narrow. “Sorry,” he blurts quickly, not at all in the mood for a lecture where Zayn tells him just how wonderful he thinks Liam is. “I just – I’m worried I guess? Like, it’s been so good. Us being together has been great, best thing to ever happen to me, and I was fine with hiding it at the house because of the competition and everything, but now we’ve supposedly made it. We’ve made it, and I just wanted us to be official, you know?”

            Zayn tilts his head, and Liam flushes because he knows he was rambling, but he can’t help it. He always rambles when he’s emotional and confused, and he’s definitely both right now. “Liam, babe, we are official. The lads know, and Simon knows and our label, and management, even if they’re being pricks about it. Our families know too, but most importantly we know. I know and you know, and that’s all I care about.”

            Liam hates Zayn sometimes, for being so good with words and erasing all of Liam’s fears like a magic trick. “I hate you sometimes,” he echoes his thoughts, negating his words by yanking Zayn closer still, bodies aligned on the bed. Zayn grins, letting himself be pulled down and shifting against Liam until he’s comfortable. Their faces are close, breath mingling as Liam studies this boy he just met but knows so well.

            “You hate me, but we’re official,” Zayn teases.

            “We’re official, but Zayn, what if hiding it ruins it?”

            And that’s Liam’s real problem with all of this. He’s worried that hiding it will taint it somehow, like it makes their relationship dirty. That’s definitely how management sees it: a dirty secret meant to be hidden away.

            “Have some faith, babe,” Zayn says, still smiling like he absolutely refuses to let Liam bring him down. It’s ridiculous, how optimistic Zayn can be when Liam’s the one worrying. “We’ll be fine. No matter what else, Li. I think you and I will always be fine.”

            “Yeah?”

            Zayn drops his head, nuzzling his nose against Liam’s in an Eskimo kiss that startles a giggle out of Liam. “Yeah.”

            All of the tension melts of Liam just like that, and Zayn clearly feels him relax because he pulls back a bit, smile going painfully wide as his nose scrunches.

            Liam raises one eyebrow, a habit he’s picked up from Zayn. “What?”

            When Zayn shifts, deliberately slow, Liam suddenly becomes aware of how intimately they’re pressed together, every centimeter of their bodies touching, and – _oh, wow._ Yeah, Zayn’s on top of him, and they’ve been in this position before, but it feels more intense now for some reason.

            “Zayn,” Liam’s voice comes out a bit strangled.

            “The lads are out,” Zayn states conversationally, hips rotating in a slow, even rhythm, and Christ, Liam can feel himself hardening.

            “Yeah?” Liam wishes his voice hadn’t come out so breathless, but it’s not like he can hide how badly he wants Zayn anyways. His growing erection is enough evidence, not to mention the flush probably staining his cheeks, and sometimes he really hates Zayn.

            But sometimes he really likes him too.

            Like when Zayn leans down to whisper into Liam’s ear, “Yeah. They’ll be out for a few hours, too. Louis wanted to shop, and you know how he is. So it’s just us. Just us in this hotel, Li, no interruptions...”

            And that’s all Liam needs to hear.

            He flips them with no trouble, smirking at the surprised noise Zayn makes as Liam reverses their positions. His hands come up to cage Zayn in automatically, their legs a tangle of limbs as Liam just barely keeps his weight off of Zayn.

            Zayn’s staring at Liam, wide-eyed and open-mouthed, and Liam can’t help the way he smiles at it.

            “And what, Zayn, do you suggest we do with all that time?” he teases, matching Zayn’s playful tone easily.

            Zayn’s eyes dilate rapidly, and his tongue darts out to drag against his bottom lip.

            “No suggestions?” Liam continues, just barely pressing his hips down harder. Zayn releases a short breath. “Zayn? I guess you don’t want to do anything after all...”

            “Oh fuck this,” Zayn snaps, hands shooting up to tangle at the back of Liam’s neck, and then he’s yanking Liam down until their mouths slam together.

            Liam groans into it, all pretense of teasing gone from his mind, wiped clean by the wet heat of Zayn’s mouth against his. They kiss roughly, Zayn’s impatience obvious in every press of his teeth to Liam’s bottom lip. His deft fingers tug at the hem of Liam’s shirt and Liam pulls back just enough to yank it off. The pleased noise that leaves Zayn’s throat makes Liam’s heart flutter and warmth pool low in his stomach. He falls back into Zayn only after tugging off his shirt as well, loving the feel of their bare chests rubbing together as they grind against each other.

            “Lube, babe,” Zayn mumbles when Liam pulls back to drag his lips down the column of Zayn’s throat.

            “Thought you said we had time?” Liam mocks, hitching his hips to snag his cock against Zayn’s and the friction from four layers of clothing makes them both groan.

            (And Liam never thought he’d get used to this, that he’d be good at _this._ He’s never been with anybody like he’s been with Zayn, but it’s not awkward or stilted at all. Liam wants Zayn so much, and the other boy reacts just the same. Liam’s giddy with it).

            Zayn’s legs come up to tangle around Liam’s hips, slotting them together more firmly until Liam’s cock is pressing against Zayn’s arse with every shift, and Liam’s brain shorts out.

            “-wanted to try if that was okay with you,” Zayn’s saying, lips tracing the words into Liam’s shoulder when he tunes back in.

            “What?”

            Zayn laughs before biting lightly at the sensitive skin between neck and shoulder, and Liam presses a swift kiss to Zayn’s mouth in retaliation, pulling lightly at Zayn’s bottom lip. “Want you to fuck me,” Zayn repeats, dark eyes fixed on Liam’s with no hint of embarrassment, and –

            “What?” Liam stutters again, going completely still because he’s not sure he’s heard right.

            Zayn groans, tangling one hand in Liam’s hair to pull him close again, the other hand going up to trace Liam’s naked spine. “I want you to fuck me,” Zayn says again, being ridiculously clear about it. “Please, Li. I know we haven’t yet but with the others gone, I thought – I just want you inside me, babe. Please?”

            And that’s – Liam can’t form coherent thoughts after that because he never – It’s unexpected, and it has him blurting out, “I thought you’d want to fuck me.”

            He almost winces at himself, but Zayn doesn’t even react beyond shifting, his cock digging into Liam’s stomach.

            “We can do that too,” Zayn answers. “But, please, right now I just – I want you to fuck me, babe, please?”

            And Liam gives in of course. He presses back down into Zayn, rutting against him as he shoves into another kiss, tangling his hands in Zayn’s once-styled quiff, and he’s not sure whose moan bounces between their mouths.

            He wants Zayn. Christ, he wants Zayn so badly now that he’s thinking of it. Not that he hadn’t thought of it before, because of course he had. He and Zayn have been dating for months now, and they’ve done pretty much everything except this, and Liam always told himself it was because of the lack of privacy, the way they never had enough time, but a dark part of himself (the sad, bullied part of himself that he hates to even acknowledge now) had wondered if it wasn’t because Zayn didn’t actually want him. It’s stupid, he knows, and now he’s got confirmation that it was stupid because Zayn’s rutting against him on the bed, desperate for Liam and begging to be fucked and it’s just –

            “Liam,” Zayn gasps when Liam’s hands inch toward the button of his jeans. “Lube, now.”

            “Bossy,” Liam mutters, unable to help poking fun at Zayn still, but he retrieves the bottle from the night stand where they’d stashed it. “Out of your pants yeah?”

            Zayn smirks at Liam’s request, shifting around to yank out of his jeans and pants. Liam does the same after placing the bottle within easy reach, and by the time he looks up Zayn’s spread out on the bed, cock hard and curved up his lower stomach, completely unabashed as he meets Liam’s eyes.

            Liam can’t help but stare at him.

            It’s not the first time he’s seen Zayn naked and laid out like this, daylight highlighting every line of his nearly perfect body, but it still knocks Liam breathless every time. Zayn’s just so beautiful, alarmingly so, and Liam tells him all the time. Zayn normally just brushes it off with a slight blush and a light laugh, but he tells Liam the same when it’s Liam that’s spread out and vulnerable, and Liam thinks that’s what makes them work. He doesn’t have to question how Zayn feels or what Zayn thinks because they tell each other, no shame at all.

            It’s wonderful.

            “Stop thinking,” Zayn comments, tone much more relaxed now. One of his hands drifts down to grip firmly around his cock, stroking himself a few times. “You always thinks too much, Li.”

            “It’s just –” Liam starts, shifting to his knees in front of Zayn.

            “I know,” Zayn cuts him off because he does know. Zayn knows that Liam has no experience with this, but the absolute trust and affection shining out of his eyes tells Liam that it doesn’t matter, not to Zayn. “I want this though. So if you want it –”

            “Of course I want it.”

            Zayn chuckles lowly, wrist twisting slightly like Liam’s rough voice did something for him. “Then just go with it, yeah? I trust you, Li. I’ve got you.”

            Liam relaxes, self-deprecating smile tugging at his lips because he knows he’s being a bit ridiculous. It’s just Zayn makes him feel everything too much, and if Liam wasn’t so ridiculously into Zayn, he’d be worried about it. He’s not worried about anything now though as he scoots closer to Zayn, the older boy’s legs falling open to accommodate him.

            Liam tries not to appear too pleased by that, but judging by Zayn’s smirk, he fails. Pressing a tender kiss to Zayn’s collarbone, Liam picks the bottle of lube back up, squirting a generous amount on his fingers. Zayn’s thighs cage him in as he presses forward, middle finger tracing over Zayn’s rim, and this is familiar. They’ve done this, so Liam nudges forward into that tight heat without fear, smiling as Zayn gasps with each thrust of one finger, then two, before Liam hits his prostate and Zayn shudders.

            “Fuck, Liam,” Zayn moans, eyes falling shut as he rocks back onto Liam’s fingers. “You’re so good at this babe, how –” He chokes off on an inhalation when Liam gently presses a third finger in, crooking his fingers to distract Zayn from the stretch. “You’re a menace,” Zayn breathes, “looking like a fucking angel when you’re like this in bed.”

            “Your fault,” Liam reminds him, unable to stop himself from leaning forward to suck a bruise just below the hollow of Zayn’s throat, where it won’t be seen. He grins when Zayn arches up into him. “Definitely your fault.”

            “Shut up,” Zayn breathes out as Liam scissors his fingers, letting Zayn pick up the pace of his movements as he fucks down onto them. “Christ, Li, just...”

            Liam moans when Zayn whimpers at the curl of Liam’s fingers against his prostate. “Shit,” his voice goes deep and rough as he watches Zayn squirm, back arching like he wants more. “Can I -? Zayn are you good? Please, I want to – Babe, let me –”

            “Yes,” Zayn hisses, dark eyes blinking open to expose pupils blown with lust. Zayn looks fairly wrecked, hair a mess and face gleaming with sweat as he bites his bottom lip and shoves back on Liam’s fingers once more. “Li, please, now. I want you inside me.”

            Liam pulls his fingers out, trying to ignore Zayn’s whine as he clenches around nothing, and shit, Liam’s scrambling for the night stand drawer, hoping –

            He pulls out a condom, relieved that Zayn at least had thought ahead. When he goes to put it on though, Zayn darts up into a sitting position, knocking his hands away.

            “Let me.” Zayn’s deft fingers slide the latex on, and Liam can’t help the way he moans and falls forward to rest his forehead against Zayn’s shoulder. The condom feels odd against his skin, but Zayn pumps him a few times, and Liam forgets it completely.

            “Fuck, Zayn, where - ? How do you want to do this babe?” he pulls back to gauge Zayn’s reaction, suddenly desperate to figure out exactly what Zayn wants. Liam just wants to make this so good for Zayn, so fucking good.

            Zayn bites his bottom lip, looking uncertain for the first time since he initiated this. “I heard that hands and knees is better, easier, but I want – Li I just want to see your face. Can we – do you think we could -?”

            Liam places one hand on Zayn’s chest, silencing him and pressing backward gently until Zayn follows the easy pressure to the bed. He sighs out as Liam moves over him, resting his entire weight on his elbows as he hovers in the space between Zayn’s thighs. “On your back?” Liam asks just to be sure.

            Zayn nods quickly, dick twitching slightly as Liam’s stomach just barely brushes against his erection. “Please.”

            Liam gives in because he’ll always give into Zayn and because he wants this too, wants it so bad his fingers shake as they rearrange themselves. Zayn shoves up closer to the headboard, Liam following.

            “Up,” he nearly whispers, tugging a pillow to drag under Zayn’s hips. Zayn complies, lean muscles stretching beautifully as he tilts his hips up. Liam moves closer once Zayn’s propped up, hips aligning, until he can line his cock up with Zayn’s pulsing hole. He pauses, inhales deeply because shit – this is – he’s going to fuck Zayn.

            Sixteen year old Liam would never have thought he’d have a shot with a guy as beautiful as Zayn Malik.

            “Hey, Li,” Zayn’s voice whispers over the still air between them, and one finger slides under Liam’s chin to tilt his head up. Zayn’s eyes are warm, as he smiles fondly at Liam. He drags one hand through Liam’s curls before saying, “It’s just us yeah? Just us.”

            Liam laughs, Zayn’s words easing the last of his worry. “Just us,” he repeats before swiftly ducking down and snagging Zayn’s lips in a kiss. He moves before he can second guess himself, pressing forward. The high noise that leaves Zayn’s throat as the head of Liam’s cock sinks into his tight heat makes Liam’s gut tighten. He presses in slowly, feeling every second of the slow drag, Zayn relaxing underneath him.

            “So tight,” Liam breathes, trembling with the need to thrust hard into Zayn, but he doesn’t want that. Not for the first time, his very first time, but especially his first time with _Zayn._

            “Leeyum,” Zayn whines, fingers scrambling over Liam’s back, digging in as his breath hitches when Liam bottoms out. They’re pressed chest to chest, and Zayn’s legs dig into Liam’s sides, feet planted against the mattress.

            “Alright?” Liam pulls back a bit, searching Zayn’s face desperately. Zayn’s eyes are squeezed shut, his teeth snagging harshly on his bottom lip. Liam’s heart drops instantly. “Shit, Zayn –” he goes to pull out, heart thumping because he’s clearly hurting Zayn, and he doesn’t want –

            Zayn’s legs wrap tightly around Liam’s hips, keeping him still, and his fingers dig into Liam’s shoulders even harder. “No, Li. Don’t move.”

            “Zayn –”

             “It feels good.”

            “What?”

            Zayn’s eyes blink open, and Liam stops breathing. His pupils are blown, black nearly swallowing the brown. He shifts just slightly under Liam, and they both hiss as Liam sinks deeper. “It feels good,” he repeats, voice just shy of steady. “I just need a moment to adjust. I – it’s a lot. You feel good.”

            Liam can’t process it. Zayn’s – he’s struggling to stay put and it’s all because of Liam. _Liam’s_ doing this to him, making him lose control, and it’s a heady feeling. He can feel himself trembling, Zayn’s cock once again digging into his stomach, smearing precum over his abs, and he wants to move so bad, but he can’t.

            “Zayn,” he whines when he can’t take it anymore.

“Sorry,” Zayn exhales, timid smile quirking his lips. “Y’can move. Liam please. Just –”

            Liam rocks up into Zayn out of pure instinct. The moan that drags from his mouth makes him flush, but the way Zayn’s breathing stutters makes his gut tighten. Zayn’s chin tilts up, throat going taut as he blinks dazedly at the ceiling. Liam rocks forward again, relishing in the sound his skin makes against Zayn’s.

            “Again,” Zayn pleads, eyes seeking Liam’s as one hand comes up to his chin. He tugs Liam’s face down urgently, pressing their lips together harshly. “Move, Liam, please. I need you to move,” he mouths, snagging Liam’s lips with his own as he forms every word.

            Liam can’t really be blamed for the way he reacts. One hand moves to trace down Zayn’s legs, nails digging in only slightly to leave red marks down the outside of his thigh. He cups Zayn’s calf, pressing in with his fingertips until Zayn chokes on a moan. Liam’s lips quirk as he buries his face in Zayn’s neck, yanking his leg up at the same time until it rests just under his armpit. The sudden movement makes him sink deeper, Zayn’s walls clenching around him hotly.

            “Fuck, Liam,” Zayn stutters back, hips straining to fuck him down on Liam’s cock, and Liam knows that he’s managed to stroke Zayn’s prostate. Zayn’s squirming for it again, urging Liam on like he wants Liam to pound into him, and Liam wants that. He wants to slam into Zayn until they’re both bruised with it, but not this time.

            That’s not what Liam wants though. He moves slow, so slow as he snags Zayn’s hands, tangling their fingers together. He stretches up, arms flexing as he presses their hands to the headboard. Zayn arches with the motion, cock trapped firmly between them. A high whine leaves his throat as Liam presses down and up, rocking slowly into his tight wet heat.

            “Liam, what –”

            “I want it slow,” Liam mumbles into the skin of Zayn’s neck, tongue lightly tracing a vein until Zayn shudders. “So slow, babe. I want you to feel everything, yeah? Every little motion.” He punctuates his statement by rolling his hips, nudging right along Zayn’s prostate.

            Zayn whimpers, eyes closing as he breathes harshly through his nose. “Yes. Alright, Li. Slow, please, babe, whatever you want. Just fuck me, please.”

            Liam smirks at the way he’s undone Zayn, but he’s not much better off, trembling with every clench of Zayn’s body beneath him, and when Zayn arches his spine on the next thrust Liam hisses. Liam groans when he sees the smirk teasing at Zayn’s lips, shoving a harsh kiss to smother it, throwing his hips forward at the same time until they’re just breathing.

            Their lips snag repeatedly as they rock together, Zayn’s shoulders straining so he can push back, meet Liam for every slow thrust, the way their hips roll together. Neither of them are very good at dancing, but this –

            They’re amazing at this, Liam thinks in a daze. Zayn clenches around him and all he can think is perfect.

            The word trips off his tongue along with a litany of beautiful and so good and “Jesus Christ, Zayn.”

            “Right there,” Zayn breathes back. “Li, right –”

            He chokes off as Liam pushes deeper, shoving his moan into Zayn’s neck as he bites hard against the skin.

            “No – no marks.”

            Liam whines, shifting lower until his lips rest against Zayn’s chest, and he sucks a dark mark there as payback.

            Zayn arches into it, cock rubbing painfully hard just below Liam’s navel, and oh yeah, Liam thinks belatedly.

            He’s untangling one of their clasped hands, sneaking fingers around Zayn’s cock and pumping him to match the slow roll of his hips.

            “Oh,” Zayn gasps. “Li –”

            “I want you to come first,” Liam breathes against Zayn’s flushed skin. “Please Zayn. You first.” The way Zayn squeezes around Liam’s cock, he’s not sure he’ll make it. He’s moving quicker now, his slow pace forgotten in favor of the harsh slap of his hips against Zayn’s arse. He tightens his grip on Zayn’s cock, smearing precum down his shaft to ease the slide, and it’s too much. It’s way too much and not enough all at once.

            Zayn tenses under him, muscles locking as his spine arches, and Liam shoves hard into his prostate, circling there to drive Zayn over the edge.

            “Liam,” Zayn’s voice cracks in the middle as he spills over Liam’s hand, coating both their stomachs. He stays arched up, shoulders digging into the mattress as Liam goes still, letting Zayn ride his orgasm out. He clenches hard around Liam for moments until he finally goes lax, fingers loose in Liam’s tight hold.

            Liam takes that as his cue, and he moves. He pounds into Zayn, bracing them both against the headboard with their clasped hands. And Zayn, shit, he just takes it. Curling his legs around Liam, he anchors them together, free hand tangling in Liam’s hair.

            “Li,” he whispers, lips shaping Liam’s jaw. “Come on. Cum, babe, please. Want to feel you.”

            Liam shudders, pushing harder, and he can feel his orgasm growing. Sweat slicks his forehead, and he feels so warm, bursting with heat fueled by Zayn. The tightening in his gut amplifies, and then he’s there, right on the edge. Zayn tugs on his hair, and that’s it. Liam’s hurtling off the edge, freefalling into Zayn, and Zayn catches him.

            When Liam can focus again, he realizes that he’s fallen on top of Zayn, but Zayn’s not complaining. He’s running his fingers through Liam’s hair, and Liam snorts.

            “Back with the living then?” Zayn teases.

            “Shut up,” Liam buries his face in Zayn’s chest, letting himself relax further. He’s still inside Zayn, and he’s growing over-sensitive, but he doesn’t want to move.

            Zayn laughs, and he sounds so free that Liam can’t help his smirk. “It was good then?”

            “Like you don’t know.”

            “Liam.”

            Liam lifts his head up, letting his chin rest on Zayn’s chest. Their eyes meet, and Liam notices immediately the shine in Zayn’s. He’s happy, reflecting Liam’s own joy, and they burst into giggles. It’s ridiculous, but it’s perfect. “It was perfect,” Liam echoes his thoughts. “Seriously Zayn. I’m glad it was you.”

            Zayn’s fingers drift from his hair to trace over the pout of his bottom lip. “Yeah.”

            “Yeah.”

            “Good.” He tugs, and Liam follows his guidance easily, kissing him readily. It’s like breathing these days, kissing Zayn, and he keeps it short.

            Zayn pouts when he pulls back, and Liam chuckles. Then he hisses as he finally slides out Zayn. “Ugh,” Zayn makes a face. “Shower then?”

            Liam nods, rolling over and pulling the condom off, tying it and tossing it in the general vicinity of the waste basket. “Together?”

            Zayn rolls on top of him, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. “Course. Never gonna shower alone again.”

            Liam rolls his eyes, but he can’t hide how fond he is of this boy. “Idiot. Come on.”

       

* * *

    

_Liam says I love you for the first time like this –_

They’re on tour, the X Factor Live Tour, and it’s all so much. Liam can’t believe he’s only seventeen still, how much his life has changed, how extraordinary this newfound fame is, and yeah he’s a bit overwhelmed sometimes because everything’s always changing. Everything but Zayn, who keeps Liam grounded in a way he wasn’t aware he needed, and he’s so grateful, so everything when he looks at Zayn, like he’s just bursting with emotion just like this –

 

            Liam bounds off stage, limitless energy thrumming through his veins, and – _it’s adrenaline babe,_ Zayn’s voice in his head, so physical it feels like it’s in his ear because Zayn’s everywhere.

            Zayn’s everywhere to Liam, but right now he’s physically two steps behind Liam going down the stairs that lead off stage, and Liam pivots at the bottom, turning his grin up at Zayn. Zayn’s eyebrow quirks as he continues down, an answering grin tugging at his lips, and it only slips when Liam reaches forward and yanks Zayn into him without thought.

            Zayn makes a surprised noise but doesn’t fight the fall, letting Liam’s body catch him as they crash together. He grasps Liam’s arms for an anchor when they collide, and Liam laughs, loud and carefree at the little huff Zayn makes like he’s annoyed, but his dark eyes shine with amusement and –

            Liam loves him.

            Shit he does, and Liam thought he’d be terrified by that revelation, but he’s not.

            Christ he’s not. Realizing he loves Zayn isn’t even much of a realization. It feels like it was already there, this intimate knowledge wedged in the corner of Liam’s chest just beside his heart. Like Liam has always loved Zayn, like it’s been this way since that very first meeting, and yeah alright love at first sight is sappy, but it doesn’t feel that way. It doesn’t feel that way right now with Zayn in Liam’s arms and the absolute conviction that Liam loves him warming his heart.

            “Liam,” Zayn finally says, fond exasperation heavy in his worn voice. “Babe, we’re in the way. We should –”

            Liam spins them, letting his momentum crash them into the wall just beyond the stairs. His body falls into Zayn’s, pressing the other boy back, aligning them until Liam’s completely pressed against Zayn, exactly where he almost always wants to be. Zayn’s lips part in a shocked exhale of air, forced out by the none too gentle impact, and Liam crowds forward.

            “I love you.”

            Zayn’s mouth snaps shut with an audible click, his eyes darting back and forth between Liam’s, and Liam thinks that maybe he shouldn’t have blurted it out like this. Not when they’re backstage after another show, when there’s nothing special to mark this, when they’re surrounded by people and noise. He definitely should’ve waited until they were alone, holed away in that hotel room they’re sharing, with just Zayn to listen to his quiet confession, but he couldn’t.

            Liam couldn’t wait for that, not with Zayn right here _being Zayn._

Zayn lets go of a startled laugh before Liam can really freak out about his sudden exclamation. His hands climb up Liam’s back, tangling just behind his neck to yank him forward until Zayn can rest their foreheads together.

            “I love you too you donut.”

            Liam laughs at the absolute sincerity in Zayn’s voice, his own voice echoing loud and light and wow, Liam feels so light. He presses forward eagerly, kissing Zayn lightly but with enthusiasm because he’s in love. Liam’s in love and all he wants to do is laugh and smile and stare at Zayn.

            Zayn sighs into the kiss though, parting his lips and pressing back, and Liam lets his tongue glide against Zayn’s bottom lip, taking the kiss past a peck.

            “Oi,” Niall protests, loud footsteps echoing on the metal steps just beyond Liam’s back. There’s a badly muffled laugh hidden in Niall’s voice though as he continues, “Not backstage!”

            “Great,” Louis adds. “Now they’re going to be unbearable.”

            Liam pulls away, smiling widely at the answering grin already overtaking Zayn’s lips, like he feels just as light and bubbly as Liam does. Like he feels just as in love as Liam does. And wow. Liam wants to run laps and shout from rooftops and possibly go back onstage and sing a sappy song to Zayn just to watch him blush and grin and finally make Liam stop.

            And that’s – a lot honestly. Probably too much, so Liam keeps it to himself, but he can’t hide or contain his happiness, and he doesn’t want to.

            And Zayn’s staring back at Liam with a matching grin like he’s thinking and feeling all the same things too and –

            They’re in love.

            “Aw,” Harry coos. “Look at them.”

            Liam twists, just enough to glance back over his shoulder because he refuses to move even a millimeter away from Zayn, and sees the others gazing at them. Despite their mocking words, all three are fighting smiles with eyes that shine with fondness.

            “Bad place for a love confession, Payno,” Niall cackles.

            “Hey,” Zayn protests, hooking Liam closer to him as he frowns at the others. “It wasn’t. Leave ‘im alone.”

            The others burst into more laughter, hooting about protective or maybe possessive Zayn, but Liam doesn’t really care. He turns back to face Zayn, one hand coming up to trace Zayn’s jaw as he grins unabashedly at him.

            “I really do love you,” he states simply because he’s always believed in making life simple when he can and this – this feels like it should be simple because it’s always felt simple, like fate or something.

            Zayn snorts, but his smile doesn’t fade as he presses one last quick kiss to Liam’s lips. “And I really love you too, Leeyum.”

           

            And later when they are back in that hotel room, alone but together because they’re always together, Zayn traces the words onto Liam’s bare back with a deft fingertip. They’re tired but wide awake, still riding a post orgasmic high that’s the result of great sex (amazing sex) and loose-limbed in their happy glow. Liam looks up at him, hiding a grin in the folded arms he’s resting his head on, but he knows that Zayn sees the way his eyes crinkle with it. Zayn’s answering grin is wide enough to make his nose scrunch, and the lingering kiss he presses to Liam’s bare shoulder feels a lot like a promise, just like the words do.

            I love you.

 

* * *

 

_They fight like this –_

The tour ends after a whirlwind of dates and travelling drains them, but Liam’s so happy. Zayn’s by his side the entire time, and the others mock them for how in love they are as Zayn brushes them off. Liam’s eighteen by the time they finally get a break, and it doesn’t take much convincing for Zayn to come home with him for a week because they don’t know the definition of separation yet. So they’re at Liam’s home with his parents, just relaxing, gearing up for the next step in the madness that is their life now and –

 

            Liam shifts slowly, wincing when the bed jostles and Zayn makes a muffled protesting noise. The way Liam freezes until Zayn shuffles back into the sheets screams guilt, but he can’t help it. Zayn loves sleep, and though he never complains when Liam wakes him up early, Liam doesn’t want to test that today.

            Not when he has an actual reason for getting up.

            He pulls his arm out from under Zayn’s pillow so slowly he’s sure he’s wasted entire minutes, but it’s worth it when Zayn stays asleep. They fell asleep in normal positions, Liam swears, but they always gravitate together in the night. Liam wakes up entangled with Zayn every morning, and he wouldn’t want it any other way, no matter how sappy that makes him.

            (And it’s been over a year of this, and Liam still falls in love with all of it every single day).

            He pauses on the edge of the bed, looking over his shoulder with a dopey grin. Harry once told him that he looks drugged when he gazes at Zayn – _proper starry-eyed mate_ – and Louis snapped a picture once of them looking at each other, and yeah, Liam can admit it. He can’t hide his fondness for this boy. His boy. The boy he loves.

            It’s mad, and Liam wouldn’t trade a second of the year and a half stretching between them now, and it knocks his breath from his lungs that it’s been so long already. It feels like forever and just hours at the same time. His mum nearly tears up every time she watches them interact, even when they’re just sprawled out on the sofa watching telly. She’s happy for them, cuddles Zayn to her every chance she gets just to thank him for _taking care of my sweet son, Zayn._ Liam flushes, but he nearly splits his lips with the width of his grin every single time.

            They just – they _fit_ together.

            Liam gets up when the urge to stroke Zayn’s jaw becomes too much. He dresses as quickly and as quietly as he can, dragging jeans over his thighs and noting with satisfaction that he’s gotten bigger. Zayn says it isn’t necessary, how much he works out, but Liam likes it. He likes getting stronger, and he definitely likes the way Zayn’s eyes go darker when he comes back from a workout and strips down. He drags on one of Zayn’s shirts (smirking because Zayn’s going to complain about him stretching it out but he’ll steal it back to wear tomorrow) and then covers it quickly with a sweatshirt because he can’t go out in Zayn’s clothes. He’s not really meant to wear them at all anymore, but he absolutely cannot stop himself today.

            A low groan makes him whip around, eyes going wide with guilt as he realizes Zayn’s woken up. “Babe,” Zayn’s voice is rough with sleep, only one eye cracked open as he squints from the nest of sheets. His hair sticks up in disarray, and his lower lip pouts out. “Come back to bed.” One of his hands sneaks out, fingers grasping along the empty mattress.

            Liam’s heart drops, and he hates himself a bit for what’s about to come. “Can’t,” he answers, voice soft.

            Zayn frowns. “Leeyum.”

            Liam caves, just a little, and shuffles back. He presses his knees into the mattress and tangles his fingers with Zayn’s, only feeling worse when Zayn hums happily and lets his eyes shift shut. “Go back to sleep,” he whispers, tracing his thumb over Zayn’s knuckles.

            “Only if you do.”

            Liam sighs, and Zayn’s eyes open once more, frown firmly back in place as he undoubtedly takes in Liam’s still distant position, the way he’s already dressed.

            “Babe?”

            “Management called,” Liam admits, casting his eyes downward to focus on their hands clasped together.

            Zayn tenses immediately, sleep knocked from him. “We’re on break. Liam...”

            “I know baby,” Liam gives in to his impulsive urges and tangles one hand in Zayn’s hair, scratching soothingly at his scalp. Zayn’s upset, visibly, and Liam’s first instinct is to touch him. “But Harry and Louis have apparently done something, so management wants me to go out and distract the public.”

            Zayn moans unhappily. “How are pictures of you wandering about your hometown going to distract the internet from Harry and Louis?”

            That is an excellent point, or it would be if management hadn’t already planned ahead. But Liam doesn’t want to tell Zayn what his outing today actually entails. He just... it’s going to make Zayn upset and that’s the last thing Liam ever wants. He tells himself it isn’t really lying if he just doesn’t talk about it.

            But Zayn clearly sees his unease, eyebrows coming down as he frowns harder at Liam. His grip on Liam’s hand tightens until Liam meets his eyes again, and the confusion he sees in Zayn’s look makes his gut twist uncomfortably. “Liam?” his tone has gone from playful and persistent to concerned and Liam hates this. He hates that he feels like he has to do this.

            (It’s just so much easier to give into management sometimes, and he’ll never have Zayn’s backbone when it comes to standing up to them).

            Zayn’s eyes break him immediately – wide and dark and worried – and Liam can’t lie to him. “You remember that girl I went to school with? The one I was papped with last time I –”

            “No.”

            Liam bites his bottom lip, averting his eyes as Zayn sits up because looking at the love bites decorating Zayn’s chest only makes Liam’s gut clench harder with guilt. When he looks back, Zayn’s leaning against the headboard, sheets gathered at his waist, and their hands are only just barely clasped together now. It feels like a warning, like Zayn’s saying that he gets what management wants Liam to do, and he doesn’t want it. Of course that’s exactly what’s happening, and Liam knew it would.

            “Zayn –” he tries.

            “No way.” Zayn shakes his head. “Management can’t _do_ this. We’re on break!”

            Liam gets it; he does. When they’re on break, they’re meant to be free of all this but – “It’s just a few photos, Zayn. We’re just going to grab breakfast.”

            Zayn glares at him. “It’s not _just_ anything, Liam. Even if you say that you guys are old friends, everyone will think you’re together. You and this girl! Management _wants_ everyone to think you’re together! You really think these photos are just about distracting our fans?”

            No, Liam doesn’t actually. He’s not stupid; he knows exactly what management wants to start with these photos. It’s not the first time they’ve tried to initiate a fake relationship with him (that dancer on the show, Danielle, who Zayn had hated because – _she looks like she wants to devour you, Liam_ ). Liam hasn’t let any of their rumors get too far, too torn up by the way they so obviously hurt Zayn, but these are just pictures. Liam doesn’t care if they cause speculation; he won’t confirm anything and Sophia – the girl from school – isn’t interested in anything from him. His only hesitation with this whole thing is the way he knows it’ll bother Zayn.

            It shouldn’t though, is the thing. This _shouldn’t_ bother Zayn because it doesn’t mean anything to Liam. He should just let it go, let it be what it is, and Liam doesn’t get why he can’t do that. Why he can’t make it easier on Liam and just agree. It’s selfish, but it’s what Liam wishes in moments like this.

            He opens his mouth to say something, not even sure what it’ll be, but Zayn catches onto his hesitation immediately and he _knows._ Zayn knows immediately what that means because he knows Liam.

            “Oh.” Zayn untangles their fingers and pulls his hand back to his chest. He tries to muffle the hurt in his voice in just that one word, but Liam can hear it.

            And as always, what hurts Zayn hurts Liam. “Hey, no –” he reaches forward but Zayn recoils, maintaining distance between them. That stings; distance is always Zayn’s first defense when he’s been hurt. Liam _knows_ that, but it still stings.

            “Zayn,” he sighs out, nearly begging with his eyes. Puppy-dog eyes, Zayn calls them, and its not fair but Zayn can never hold out when Liam looks at him like this. Liam would feel worse about it if he wasn’t just pushing for Zayn to talk to him, to understand, to not curl away into himself.

            (Communication has always been an issue for them, and Liam hates it, so whatever it takes to make Zayn just _talk_ to him).

            It’s a bit messed up how Liam fully expects Zayn to cave, to pull Liam toward him and quietly agree with him, but Liam doesn’t realize how messed up that is until Zayn doesn’t. He’s terribly surprised when Zayn just pulls further away.

            “Zayn?” For the first time in this conversation Liam sounds uncertain, and he’s realizing, a beat too late, that that’s wrong. He’s messed up. The way he handled this, what he just expected from Zayn – oh, God he’s messed up. He knows it, but he’s not sure exactly how or when this all shifted into some unknown territory, a place where they’ve never been before.

            Zayn just shakes his head, hugging his knees to his chest. “Forget it.”

            _This is wrong._ It’s all Liam can think with the distance between them. “I don’t understand,” he admits, voice going soft because now he’s hurt. Liam _hates_ when Zayn pulls away from him, and Zayn knows it. Usually he’d stop now; his face would soften, and he’d apologize for hurting Liam.

            He doesn’t.

            “Just leave it alone,” he mutters, not even looking up now. “You clearly want to go, so enjoy breakfast.”

            And that sounds like – “Zayn are you jealous?” Liam’s voice rings with disbelief, and once again he realizes just a second too late that he’s handling this wrong. Because Zayn is actually jealous, is hurt, and Liam’s making it worse.

            Zayn’s head snaps up, and his eyes narrow. Liam stumbles back in surprise because Zayn’s _angry._ He’s seen Zayn angry before of course, but never aimed at him. Never angry with Liam. It’s such a shock that Liam’s scrambling to recover as Zayn speaks.

            “No,” he snaps. “I just wish _my_ boyfriend wanted to spend time with _me._ But whatever. Obviously you want to go appease management more, even though you’re the one who said –” Zayn’s voice cracks, and he shuts his mouth immediately, looking away as he furiously blinks.

            Liam’s stomach churns, and he’s trying to figure out what went so wrong. He can’t think clearly though, so he latches onto the last thing Zayn said. “I said what?”

            Zayn refuses to look at him.

            “Zayn,” he bites out, his frustration peaking because he doesn’t _understand._ “What did I say?”

            Zayn snorts, staring steadfastly at the blank wall nearest him, and he’s so small curled in on himself in Liam’s childhood bed. “You said you wanted me to come home with you and meet your family as your boyfriend. I thought –” he shakes his head, a tired smile pulling at his lips like he’s mocking himself. “Well I thought it meant something. About us. But clearly I was wrong.”

            And – _oh._ Liam blinks dumbly as he realizes. Zayn thought this meant that their relationship was serious, as in serious enough for management to finally accept. He thought that Liam inviting him home meant they were going to come out together. Liam feels dizzy, the room shifting uncertainly around him because that hadn’t even crossed his mind. He and Zayn have never been so far apart in their thinking, usually on exactly the same page without words, but now they’re in completely separate books, and Liam doesn’t know how they got there.

            “You thought – Zayn I wasn’t –”

            “Yeah, I get it,” Zayn cuts him off gruffly. “You’ve made yourself pretty clear Liam.”

            And Zayn’s so upset about this, but that’s not fair. It’s not fair because Liam hadn’t even suggest that. He’d never said a thing about becoming public so Zayn can’t be angry with him for not doing so. He can’t put this on Liam; it’s not _fair._

            “Zayn, why are you –”

            “Just go,” Zayn slides back into the sheets, back firmly to Liam as he all but disappears into the bed. His voice comes out muffled though not muffled enough to hide how strained it is (like he’s crying) as Zayn repeats, “Just go.”

            He shouldn’t.

            Zayn’s upset with him. Zayn’s hurt, and he’s mad at Liam, and Liam should stay and sort it out. He should figure out why exactly Zayn thought they’d go public now, how they got on such different paths, what this means.

But Liam still feels unbalanced, and he’s upset that Zayn is taking this out on him because he’d assumed something Liam had never suggested. It still doesn’t feel fair, and Liam’s stomach hurts wit how wrong this all feels. Zayn won’t even look at him, and Liam can’t figure this out right now.

He needs like, time and space and a clear head. He just – he needs something else.

So he does as Zayn says.

He leaves.

 

It’s their first fight.

Liam realizes it as he’s on his way to breakfast. They’ve argued before, he and Zayn. No one’s together for over a year without arguing, but none of those were actual fights. They all got resolved immediately, and not one of them felt like this. _This_ feels like an end almost, and Liam swallows hard at the thought.

It’s all his fault too. Zayn had been talking about going public more and more, and Liam should’ve realized how serious Zayn was about it. He just hadn’t – Liam was happy with how things were. He hadn’t realized that Zayn wasn’t.

This is their first fight, and it’s all his fault.

 

Liam can’t focus throughout breakfast. He just wants to go home and fix things with Zayn, anxiety making his stomach twist so that he can’t eat anything either. It only gets worse when his mum texts him halfway through.

 

**Liam James Payne, what did you do???**

He types out his response with shaking fingers.

 

**I messed up.**

His mum doesn’t reply, and Liam doesn’t even want to think about how messed up Zayn must be if Liam’s mum knows. It’s not like Karen doesn’t love Zayn (she does, calls him her other son, and that definitely should’ve tipped Liam off) but Zayn doesn’t open up to people regardless. He doesn’t show people that he’s hurting, so if Liam’s mum knows, then... well then Zayn can’t hide it.

That tears Liam to shreds, and he has no idea how he’s ever going to fix it. Especially since he’s still at this breakfast, getting papped with some girl, and that definitely only made it worse. He needs to make this up to Zayn, to apologize somehow for the way he caved into management’s demands...

Without thinking, Liam yanks off his sweatshirt, displaying Zayn’s shirt just as another picture is taken, he’s sure. It’s a shit apology, but if Zayn looks at the pictures (and he will as soon as they’re up because Zayn’s like that) then he’ll at least know that Liam is thinking of him. He’ll know that Liam purposefully picked one of his shirts to wear, and hopefully he’ll understand that it’s because Liam doesn’t ever really want to be away from Zayn.

Sophia raises a slim eyebrow but doesn’t comment, continuing her monologue about her life. Liam would feel bad about how little he’s contributing here (he really doesn’t have anything against her, after all) but he doesn’t have room to think of anything other than Zayn. He settles in for the next hour, determined to fix this with Zayn as soon as he gets home.

 

When Liam pushes into his childhood home, his mum’s in the doorway to the kitchen instantly, a pointed look fixed at him. Liam winces, hard.

“What did you do?” she demands.

“Where is he?” Liam counters immediately because it’s all he can think. He just wants to see Zayn, wants to apologize, wants to fix this.

His mum must catch his desperation because she softens a bit. “Up in your room. He only came down for a minute, barely spoke a word.”

“Mum, I –” Liam’s throat feels far too dry, and he’s worried. He’s so worried that he’s messed up his relationship with Zayn because it means so much. It means everything, honestly, and it’s terrifying that Liam has gained so much but Zayn is all that really matters.

“Fix it,” she cuts him off, voice stern but eyes kind, like she gets it. She probably does, his mum. “Whatever you did, you fix it Liam James Payne because that boy upstairs is your entire world and you’re his. Anyone could see that.”

And that’s... _Okay,_ Liam thinks. It feels – it’s monumental actually, the way his mum just phrased that, the way it doesn’t feel wrong. It’s crazy, and it makes Liam’s head spin, and he really wants to figure out why that is and what this all means, but he can’t. Not right now. Zayn’s upstairs, and he has to fix this.

But he hesitates as he turns toward the stairs. His heart is pounding, and he feels a bit sick. He’s never hurt Zayn before, not like this and what if... “Mum,” he voice sounds terrified. “What if he doesn’t forgive me?”

His mum melts, a fond but exasperated smile overtaking her mouth. “That boy loves you far more than I ever expected. And the way you love him mystifies me honestly. You’ll be fine, love, just apologize.”

 _Oh,_ Liam blinks a bit dazedly because he hadn’t thought they’d been that obvious. In fact, they’ve been rather tame the entire time they’ve been here, Zayn hyper aware of every time they touch because he’s self-conscious about it in front of Liam’s family. And Liam had tried to reign himself in because he hadn’t wanted to make Zayn uncomfortable, so really they’ve hardly been touching at all. He hadn’t thought his family would see it, the way he _needs_ Zayn.

“Liam,” his mum snaps to grab his attention. “Go.”

“Right.” Liam shakes his head, clearing away those thoughts that are startlingly insignificant right now. He darts up the stairs, shoving into his room on anxious feet because what if Zayn left? What if Zayn snuck out? What if he never wants to see Liam again? What if –

“Liam.”

He stops in the center of the room, eyes automatically finding Zayn perched in the windowsill. His next breath comes easier _because Zayn’s still here._ Zayn’s still here so Liam can fix it.

“Zayn,” he sighs it out, relief so evident, and Zayn’s eyes widen fractionally. Liam hurries over to him, dropping to his knees as soon as he’s near enough so that he and Zayn are closer in height. Zayn’s still just staring at him, thoroughly surprised, and Liam can’t help but think how beautiful Zayn is. He’s gorgeous with the light shining behind him, outlining all of his harsh features and playing through his loose and soft hair, and Zayn’s always been a collection of contrasts like that. Soft and hard, fierce and tender, everything all at once, at least to Liam.

Fuck, Liam loves him so much.

“I’m so sorry,” he blurts out, hands finding their way to rest on Zayn’s thighs, like he needs to anchor Zayn to him. “Shit, I’m so sorry, Zayn. I never should have left. I should have stayed, should’ve told management to go fuck themselves.”

“Christ Liam.” Zayn’s eyes go alarmingly wide as he nearly gapes at Liam, and Liam knows it’s because he’s cursing. He never does, but he’s so messed up right now that he doesn’t care. He doesn’t care about anything but making Zayn see how sorry he is.

“Sorry, so sorry,” he repeats nonsensically. “She doesn’t mean anything, but that doesn’t matter. I never should have left you. Not when you’re the only one I want to be papped with. Not when you’re the only one I want people to even consider I’m in a relationship with. I shouldn’t’ve –”

“You wore my shirt.”

Liam glances down and sure enough, the shirt is still obvious because he never put his sweatshirt back on. Zayn’s eyes are still fixed on the faded material covering Liam’s chest when Liam glances back up. “Yeah,” he admits, flushing just slightly. “I wanted – when I got dressed this morning, I just wanted something to remind me of you. So I put it on, but then covered it because management always gets so pissed. But then, I realized how badly I’d messed up, and there was nothing I could do because I was already there. So I – I took off my sweatshirt and got papped in your shirt, and I know it’s a shit apology. I know it doesn’t really mean anything but-”

Zayn drops something from his hands and then he’s sliding down from the window sill until he’s on his knees in front of Liam. His hands cup Liam’s jaw, and he’s –

 _Oh._ Zayn’s smiling at him, face completely lit up, and it knocks Liam breathless like it always does. Zayn rarely grins so fully, until his nose crinkles and his eyes shine, and he thinks he looks like a dork. Liam thinks he looks beautiful, and he jealously guards these smiles because he wants to be the only one to make Zayn light up like this.

“You’re an idiot,” Zayn murmurs.

“I know. I know I am. I should’ve realized that this meant something to you. I should’ve known. I’m so sorry Zayn, really I am –”

“Stop, Li,” Zayn’s still grinning, even as he sharpens his voice to cut through Liam’s rambling apologies. “Just stop. It’s fine. I’m fine. You wore my freaking shirt to get papped in, and that isn’t stupid. That does matter. And I’m sorry too.”

“Sorry?” Liam echoes. “Zayn you don’t –”

Zayn just shakes his head. “I should have said something. I knew you weren’t where I was, if that makes sense. I just – I wanted you to want what I wanted so bad that I made myself believe you were. And that isn’t fair, Li; it really isn’t.”

Liam almost laughs at how similar their words are. Zayn’s literally saying out loud what Liam had been thinking earlier, and suddenly all those jokes Niall makes about telepathy make a lot of sense.

He pulls Zayn closer, arms wrapping around the slighter boy. “I forgive you,” he mutters just because he knows that’s what Zayn needs to hear. Sure enough, Zayn sinks into his embrace, all tension gone.

“I forgive you too, like if you need to hear it.”

“Yeah?”

Zayn snorts lightly, hands tracing the edges of Liam’s jaw as they just look at each other. “Of course, you idiot.”

“Your idiot,” Liam rebuts, grinning because it’s an old joke between them, but it never fails to make Zayn laugh.

He does now, dragging Liam closer until he can press a swift kiss to Liam’s lips. Liam protests when he draws back immediately after.

“We’re on the floor, Li,” Zayn laughs at him. “We are not snogging on the floor of your childhood bedroom.”

“Why not?” Liam pouts. “We snogged in my bed. We did a lot more than that actually so –”

Zayn flushes, and Liam tries not to look too pleased about that. (It took a lot of convincing after all, to get Zayn to agree to a blow job last night, but it’d been so worth it to watch Zayn muffling his moans into one of Liam’s pillows as Liam swallowed him down).

“No,” Zayn says firmly. “Come on, get up.” He shuffles away, rolling to his feet and offering a hand to Liam.

Liam grabs it gratefully, shoving his other hand against the window sill to help him up, and his fingers knock against something. Liam peers past Zayn as he stands, curious because he forgot that Zayn had set something down. “What’s that?”

Zayn’s brow furrows, but then he sees Liam looking behind him and tenses immediately. Before Liam can make out more than the color of the thing – black – Zayn’s got it hidden in his hand behind his back.

“Nothing.”

Liam’s curiosity instantly grows. “Zayn.”

Zayn just shakes his head. “Forget about it, Li. I brought it because I thought – when I thought you wanted to go public, alright?”

Guilt instantly grows in Liam’s stomach.

“Liam,” Zayn grows, clearly seeing this. “No, it isn’t – I’m not mad anymore babe, I promise. I really shouldn’t have brought it anyways, and it doesn’t matter now.”

“Can I see?” Liam asks timidly.

Zayn quickly shakes his head. “No, Liam, really. We can just forget about it alright? It was stupid anyways, and we aren’t even – I can’t give it to you right now.”

Liam thinks he hears the words that Zayn’s not saying. _We aren’t even out yet._ And that – Liam’s actually been thinking about that. “And if I said that I want to go public,” he tries, testing out the words.

Zayn freezes. “I – really? Do you really mean that?”

Liam doesn’t even have to think about it anymore. “Of course. It’s what you want right?”

“Yeah, but I don’t just want you to do it because of that. I want you to want it too,” Zayn groans, maintaining eye contact with Liam though, like he really would be alright now if Liam said he wasn’t ready.

They’re years away from the conversation they had this morning, so much more out in the open between them, so Liam doesn’t hesitate. “It’s what I want.”

That same breathtaking smile overtakes Zayn’s face. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Liam echoes, smiling softly. “I thought about it, and it’s what I want. Of course it’s what I want. So we’ll talk to management. We’ll figure it out.”

Zayn leans forward until their foreheads are pressed together, his smile going soft and fond. “I love you.”

“Love you too,” Liam snorts, hands carding up Zayn’s sides with gentle pressure. He lets the silence stretch between them for a moment, comfortable, but he’s still curious. So, “So what is it?”

Zayn’s goes rigid again, pulling back as he says, “It still isn’t –”

But Liam’s tired of this game, and he wants to know. He reaches around and deftly snatches the thing from Zayn’s hand, a completed unexpected move that Zayn can’t counter. “I don’t see why –” he starts as Zayn makes a panicked noise and instantly reaches back for the object. Liam freezes as both their hands land on the thing, cradled between them.

It’s a box. One of those black velvet boxes that jewelry comes in, but it’s one of the small ones. His hand dwarves it as he holds it between them.

Zayn’s hand covers it a second later, tugging like he wants to hide it again, but Liam’s grip is firm on it, refusing to let it go.

It’s a small jewelry box, and Liam thinks there’s really only one thing it could possibly hold.

He looks up at Zayn, mouth gaping wide open as he just stares. “Is that –?”

Zayn cuts him off with a distressed noise, face flushed as his eyes dart back and forth between Liam’s face and the box still clutched tightly between them. “Liam let go,” he nearly whines. “It’s dumb. It’s way too much. We’ve only been together for like a year and a half, so I shouldn’t have even considered asking –”

Liam’s breath rushes from his lungs, a loud exhalation that cuts Zayn off. Zayn flinches and pulls his hand back, putting more space between them but not much because they’re still by the windowsill.

Liam drops his eyes back to the box, now only held in his hand. It’s so small, he can’t help but think as he traces a thumb over the soft exterior. So small in his hand, but it feels massive. It is massive, though, because Zayn basically confirmed what Liam asked. Zayn was thinking about _asking._

“Liam, seriously,” Zayn’s speaking again. Liam’s eyes return to his face slowly, sluggish like he’s pulling out of a dream. Zayn looks desperate though as he tugs a harsh hand through his hair. “It was stupid, alright? I brought it when I thought you were making some big gesture by inviting me, so it’s not even relevant right now. Can’t we just –”

“Is this what you want?” Liam cuts him off, holding the box out so that Zayn knows immediately what he’s really asking. “Zayn is that what you want?”

For a moment, Liam thinks that Zayn’s going to say no. He thinks that Zayn’s going to laugh it out, say it was a mistake, probably say something like they’re far too young and it’s too quick, and he wasn’t thinking clearly. It’s the expected answer, what anyone else would say if they knew, and Liam really thinks Zayn’s going to take the easy way out.

He doesn’t though. Zayn reaches a finger out, tracing the cover of the box slowly, in a gesture that echoes with familiarity, like he’s had the box for a while and he’s done this before. He doesn’t look up when he barely whispers, “Of course it’s what I want. More than anything.”

“Yes.”

Zayn’s head snaps up, eyes narrowing like he couldn’t possibly have heard that right.

He did though. Liam said that, and even as his mind catches up to what his mouth’s already said, Liam doesn’t want to take it back. His heart is pounding in his chest and a million reasons for why this is a bad idea are running through his head, but he doesn’t care. He doesn’t care because even with all of those reasons stacking up, this still _feels_ right.

It’s what Liam wants, even though he’s never considered it until this moment. But Zayn said _more than anything,_ and yeah that feels right to Liam. That sounds like exactly how he feels in this moment, like he wants Zayn more than anything.

“Liam –”

A huge grin spreads over Liam’s face, and he shoves the box into Zayn’s hands. Zayn grabs it out of instinct, and Liam takes one small step back so there’s more room between them. “Ask me,” he demands, voice unreasonably steady as a sense of calm overtakes him.

“What?” Zayn fairly squeaks. His eyes are wide, and he’s rumpled, and they’ve been through a rollercoaster of emotion this morning alone, but it’s still what Liam wants. He wants Zayn to ask him, now.

“Ask me,” he repeats, firm.

Zayn hesitates for a moment, glancing down at the box in his hands. He pops it open, and there’s the ring. Liam barely spares it a glance though, because that’s not what’s important. Zayn is what’s important; Zayn and this question.

Zayn glances back up, uncertain, but that fades when he sees Liam looking back at him. Slowly, he offers the box between them. Liam still just looks at him, waiting and hopeful.

That hope reflects in Zayn’s eyes as he seems to realize, finally, that Liam’s serious. He shuffles closer, the box still grasped tightly in his hand, but neither of them are looking at it. They’re looking at each other.

“I love you, Li,” Zayn says, so sure of his words. “I’ve loved you for over a year now, pretty much since the moment we met I think. I fell for you the instant you asked me who my favorite superhero was, and I’ve never regretted it. There’s no one else I’d rather go through all this shit with, and you’re the only thing that matters. I wouldn’t want any of this if I couldn’t have you. I only really want you.”

Liam’s breath hitches, but he doesn’t dare say anything. Words are tugging at his tongue, wanting to spill over just to confirm that everything Zayn feels, Liam feels too. But not yet. He can’t speak yet.

Zayn smiles, like he knows that Liam’s struggling to keep quiet, and he’s so fond. Liam thinks he sees it now, what his mum so clearly saw. He thinks he understands why she said that they were each other’s whole world, just as Zayn looks him in the eye and asks, “Marry me?”

“Yes.”

 

* * *

 

_They announce it to the world like this –_

Liam’s only eighteen when he gets engaged, and he’s still eighteen when they finally get to tell the world a month later. The fight with management dragged on much longer than he wished, and it was tough on him and Zayn and everyone. And it wasn’t easy either, telling their families and then convincing some of them that this wasn’t a mistake. Even if they’ve only been together for a year and a half now, it isn’t a mistake. It was hard, but it never felt like a mistake, and Liam doesn’t regret it at all. So he’s only eighteen but he’s completely sure as he sits on a couch in a TV studio with Zayn next to them, just waiting to finally tell the world –

 

“Is that how you two are going to sit?” Louis’s condescension is clear in the uplift of his right eyebrow.

Liam and Zayn glance at each other, curious, and then back at Louis. “Yes.”

Liam flushes at the way they speak in synchronization, but Zayn nudges Liam with his shoulder and giggles, and Liam can’t help but grin widely back. They’ve been this giddy all week, ever since management finally called and told them about this interview, ever since everyone finally seemed to accept that this was happening.

(And it hurts Liam that some of their family members are still worried, that they speak of being too young and making mistakes and growing older but not growing together. They get it though, he and Zayn. They know that they’re young and that it could be a mistake, but it’s what they want, and they have faith in their relationship. So as long as everyone they care about supports them, they don’t care).

Liam’s grin only widens as Zayn maintains eye contact with him, an overly fond uplift to his lips.

“Now you’ve done it,” Niall snorts. “They’re going to make eyes at each other for ages now. Probably won’t even look at the interviewer.”

Liam goes to turn away, embarrassed, but Zayn flips Louis and Niall off, raising his other hand to keep Liam facing him with a gentle finger on his chin. The grin tickling at Zayn’s mouth – amused and arrogant and, alright, besotted as well – is all that Zayn needs to hold Liam captive though. They stare (gaze) at each other, both fighting massive grins because it feels like admitting something if they give in. It’s ridiculous, how they tug and tease back and forth, like it’s a competition to see who will break and say it first.

_I love you._

Zayn’s nose scrunches with a huffed out laugh, like he can read Liam’s thoughts. Liam sticks his tongue out childishly because he won’t be the one to break, not this time. He knows that he gives in far too easily, says it twice as much as Zayn ever does, but it’s not _his_ fault. Can’t possibly be his fault when Zayn looks at him like this – like Liam’s all the good in the world, the only thing Zayn wants to look at, like he lives for Liam’s smile. Zayn looks at Liam like he loves him, so of course Liam says it back.

(It might seem unbalanced, that Liam says it so much more, but it’s not. Zayn’s never had a way with words when it comes to speaking, and Liam isn’t sure his actions alone say enough, so it works. It’s them).

“Stubborn today? Don’t want to give in?” Zayn breathes, one hand lightly tracing up Liam’s side just to make him shudder. His eyes flash when Liam does, a mix of lust and laughter and arrogance because he knows exactly what he does to Liam.

It’d be terrifying if Liam didn’t like it so much.

Liam hums but doesn’t answer. Instead he shifts closer to Zayn on the couch, careless of the people scurrying around. The interview will start soon and then it won’t matter if Liam throws an around Zayn’s shoulder, dragging them closer until their sides press together. It won’t matter if they look a bit too close for just bandmates because everyone will know that they’re so much more.

Liam nearly splits his lip with the force of his smile at the thought (and also possibly at the way Zayn sinks into his side as he tugs at him).

“That’s more like it!” Louis’s exclamation is punctuated by a harsh clap, like he’s congratulating himself.

Zayn and Liam startle and then regretfully pull apart, mirror grimaces on their faces. They settle back into their earlier positions, very closer together and leaning towards each other but nothing overt. It’s a position they would have had for any other interview.

“What? No!” Louis glares at them as they look at him. “Go back to how you were!”

“Looked like a proper couple,” Niall adds, giving them the same grin he’s had since the moment they’d told the boys.

(It had been terrifying, Liam’s hand a clammy mess clasped in Zayn’s as they’d faced their other three bandmates. Waiting for their reactions had been the worst part as Liam had worried they’d freak out. They had, but not in any way he or Zayn had expected. Niall laughed, nearly turned purple with the force of it. Harry had congratulated them so earnestly that even Zayn had looked uncomfortable. And Louis, for some unknown reason, appointed himself the leader of their coming out, like a bloody publicist, he was).

“We are a couple,” Liam tries to reason. “We don’t have to try to look like one.”

“We know that,” Louis argues. “But they don’t! You need to show the public!”

“Lou’s got a point,” Harry drawls out, looking up from his phone. “You don’t want anyone to say it’s a publicity stunt.”

Zayn winces, and Liam runs a soothing hand over his knee. Harry’s right though. They don’t want anyone to think this is a stunt, but they’ve already discussed this. They refuse to let their relationship be ruled by publicity, to become something that they aren’t just to fit a certain narrative, to let their engagement overshadow everything else.

Agreeing to a short, simple interview with just the two of them, Zayn and Liam had settled on acting like they would in any interview. They want to announce their relationship and engagement without making a huge deal of it because it _shouldn’t_ be a big deal. By acting like it isn’t, they’re hoping to downplay the publicity, and management had agreed.

Liam’s the one who responds to Harry now though. “There has already been speculation that we’re together, acting like how we always are. So –”

“That’s because you two don’t know the definition of subtle,” Niall laughs. “Always making heart eyes at each other, no boundaries. Honestly, Lou, how many times have I had to lean forward in interviews just to block these two?”

“Hundreds of times,” Louis deadpans.

Zayn rolls his eyes. “Exactly our point. We already act like a couple, kind of. Why change that?”

“Louis and I act like that too though,” Harry tosses in, brow furrowed, and Liam tries not to get irritated. He knows that the other three lads are just worried about them. It’s their first interview as a couple, the time they’re coming out, and it’s terrifying. He gets it. “There are rumors about us too, and we aren’t anything but friends. Don’t you think you should play up the couple thing?”

“No,” Liam firmly shakes his head. “We don’t want to change anything about us just to make it easier. That’s what we were doing when we were hiding. We aren’t hiding anymore, so we’re going to do it like how we want to do it.”

Zayn beams at him. “Well said babe.”

Liam flushes but grins back.

“Forget it,” Louis sighs. “Just look at each other like that and everyone’ll definitely believe it.”

“Shut up,” they both retort, in sync once more.

Before any of the boys (probably Niall) can say something, the interviewer walks up and greets them, “Hello Mr. Payne, Mr. Malik. Ready?”

Liam tries to keep himself relaxed as she steps forward and shakes both of their hands. She’s a nice girl, friendly and calming, and she’ll be respectful. They went with this station for a reason after all, and when she was briefed on what they would cover in this interview, she hadn’t even reacted noticeably, so Liam thinks that’s probably a good sign.

“Interview will start in a couple of minutes,” she comments easily once everyone’s murmured pleasantries. “If you three will please step back?”

Niall Harry and Louis all shoot them grins, a cheeky thumbs up from Louis and murmured words of encouragement from Harry, and then they’re all behind the cameras and the lights. They’ll stay for the whole thing though, supporting them silently, and Liam’s so grateful.

“So,” the interviewer settles into her own armchair and Liam reminds himself that her name is Katie as she smiles encouragingly at them. “Are you two ready? Nervous or anything?”

Zayn shrugs on Liam’s left. “A bit nervous, sure, but we’re just ready to tell everyone.”

She grins, all soft and motherly almost, and Liam relaxes further into the couch. “Understandable. I’ll try to ease into it as seamlessly as possible.”

They both murmur short thanks, and Liam drags his hand over Zayn’s for one last supportive squeeze. Zayn brushes his fingers lightly over Liam’s knuckles as they let go, with a quiet, “It’ll be fine babe,” before the bustle around the set comes to an abrupt halt.

“Ready in thirty,” a man with a headset calls out.

Zayn and Liam settle more firmly into their positions on the couch, maintaining easy postures like this is any other interview. By the time the man with the headset is silently cuing the cameras, Liam’s ready.

The interview starts out easy, with Katie greeting them and asking about the music. Zayn and Liam were very firm about doing this part, worried that it’d be too much to launch directly into why they were here. It’s buzzing in the background though, the knowledge that they’re here to announce something. It’s how the interview was spun after all, ‘Members of One Direction, Zayn Malik and Liam Payne discuss music fame and a secret? Tune in Friday to find out more!’

Still it’s not until a couple of minutes in that it’s even broached. “You lads are just ending a break from your first – and incredibly successful – tour though, correct?” Katie questions, and she’s very believable, Liam thinks. She genuinely sounds as though she’s not sure, even though Liam saw her checking her fact sheet before the cameras came on.

“Yeah,” Zayn replies. “It’s been about two months.”

“And how have you spent your time? Sleeping, I’m sure.”

Liam laughs, hoping it comes out genuine enough. “Sure, catching up on sleep is nice, but we’ve actually been spending most of it with our families.”

“Of course,” Katie smiles like she thinks it’s charming that they went home to their families. “How were the families then? Did you two miss each other and the others while you were apart?”

“The others, no way,” Zayn smirks. “Nice to get a break from those menaces.”

“But each other, then?” Katie persists. “Rumor has it that you two are quite close.”

“We are,” Liam confirms. “But it would have been a bit hard to miss Zayn when he was with me the whole time.”

The puzzlement on Katie’s face reads so true that Liam actually almost panics for a moment, like they’d forgotten to tell her. “Wait, so you two spent your break together? But I thought you went to see your families.”

“Oh we did,” Zayn nods. “We went to see Liam’s first, and then we went to see mine.”

They could leave it like that, just play it off as mates spending time with each other’s families, and yeah it’d be a bit weird, but they could still dismiss it. Liam doesn’t want that though, not at all. He’s ready for everyone to know. Katie looks like she’s about to comment again, so Liam heads her off.

“Yeah, I invited Zayn home with me. Figured it was about time me parents met my boyfriend.”

Katie’s eyes go wide with shock and her lips part a bit, but this time Liam can detect the discrepancies in her act, like the way her eyes don’t actually change. “I’m sorry, can I get you to repeat that? Correct me if I’m wrong, but I believe you just said that Zayn is your boyfriend.”

“That’s right,” Liam can’t help but look at Zayn as he says it because _finally._ Zayn’s looking back at him of course, a slight grin tugging at his lips. He noticeably swallows when they make eye contact, and Liam can tell that he wants nothing more than to kiss him in that moment. It makes his own lips twitch in amusement. It’s a slight struggle to turn away then, and he can tell that he’s grinning dopily as he faces Katie once more.

“Zayn’s my boyfriend. We’ve been together for over a year and a half now.”

“But that would put you two back on X Factor. Are you telling us that you’ve been together this entire time?”

“We have,” Zayn cuts in. “And we’re very sorry that we never came forward with it, but with how drastically our lives were changing, we thought it would be easier to keep it just between us. Didn’t want to add more scrutiny.”

“Wow,” Katie enthuses, acting every inch the part of a journalist who has just had the story of her career fall in her lap. “So what changed then? Why announce your relationship now?”

“We got tired of lying about it,” Liam admits. “It was too hard to pretend we weren’t together, and now that we’ve got such a loyal and amazing fan base we figured we owed it to them, to like trust them with the truth and everything.”

“And,” Zayn hedges, his grin growing wider (and Liam isn’t surprised that this is Zayn’s favorite part, Zayn and his possessive nature) as he grasps Liam’s left hand and holds it up, just enough for the ring to catch the light shining on them. “Now that we’ve made it even more official, we knew that it was time.”

Katie gasps delightedly, looking truly happy for them, and Liam kind of hopes she actually is. “Is that an engagement ring?”

“It is,” Liam feels himself flushing as Zayn runs a finger over the smooth metal of the simple dark grey band (a habit he’s adopted since the day he asked and Liam slipped it on). “We’re engaged.”

“Liam and I are getting married,” Zayn tacks on, like he just can’t help it, and when Liam faces him, his smile is slight. To others it probably looks like he’s not overly enthused about it, but to Liam it looks like exactly what it is. It looks like Zayn’s confident that he has everything he wants, that Liam is his like he wants, and like he doesn’t have to show how happy he is because it’s just the truth.

Liam’s certain they’re making heart eyes (as Niall would put it) at each other, refusing to look away as the interview continues, with Katie pitching a million questions like they’d been told she would. Liam’s thankful for her endless enthusiasm, and he knows that he should turn his full attention back to her, but he can’t.

He doesn’t want to look at anything but Zayn. Zayn who clings to his hand and traces the cool metal of his ring and grins softly like he’s found his place in life. Zayn who loves him completely. Liam never wants to look at anyone again.

He thinks that possibly, he won’t ever really have to.

 

* * *

 

_Sometimes they fuck like this –_

Liam’s twenty and Zayn’s twenty one when their wedding is finally, finally drawing near, and it’s been a hellish year and a half. They finished another tour, and they’ve just released their third album, and they’ve been in the news every single day it feels like. The hype leading up to their wedding has only increased because management made them wait another freaking year to actually get married. It’s been a media storm, and they’re hardly even talked about as a band anymore, but the other boys shrug it off. They all knew it was coming, and they’re still selling out stadiums, and they still have a loyal fan base so it’s not all bad. In fact, most of the backlash has been alright but some of it has been negative, and it’s all just a lot to handle. But Liam has Zayn. He has Zayn to comfort him and console him, and sometimes, when it’s really bad and Liam’s not sure what he’s doing anymore, he has Zayn to distract him –

 

            “Zayn, come on,” Liam whines, begging for his fiancé to just fucking _move._ His voice has exceeded desperate, and his chest is flushed with blind want, and he looks like a complete wreck he’s sure. He’d be embarrassed by the way he’s literally begging for Zayn’s cock if he could feel anything except for desire right now. He just wants Zayn so bad, wants Zayn to fill him up and fuck him up until Liam can’t even think anymore. And Zayn’s taking his sweet ass time about it.

            “Zayn,” Liam tries to sound commanding, but his voice cracks in the middle of Zayn’s name when the other boy curves his fingers just so and rubs right along Liam’s prostate. “Fucking bastard,” Liam heaves, his thighs protesting as he dips low again, chasing that feeling.

            Zayn smirks up at him, all arrogance with his back pressed to the headboard. He’s trying to play it cool, like it’s not affecting him at all to have three fingers shoved up Liam’s arse as Liam straddles him in their bed, but the flush in his cheeks betrays him. Not to mention the hard cock that nudges at the back of Liam’s thigh every time he fucks downward on Zayn’s fingers.

            “What, babe?” Zayn teases, twisting his hand until every single time he moves, he’s right on Liam’s prostate. Liam throws his head back on a long moan, and he’s not surprised at all when Zayn’s lips latch onto his neck, paying special attention to his birthmark.

            A slight grin steals onto Liam’s face, even as he picks up his pace, wanting to get off because his cock is painfully hard. It’s just that Liam knows Zayn just as well as Zayn knows him, and it’ll never stop amazing him.

            But then Zayn withdraws his fingers, and Liam whines. Zayn chuckles, grasping Liam’s chin to pull his head down and snagging their lips together. “Thought you wanted me to fuck you, babe?” Zayn wonders. “Or did you just want my fingers?”

            “No,” Liam says instantly. “Want you, please Zayn. Want your cock. Want to ride you until I can’t walk tomorrow, and –”

            “Fuck,” Zayn cuts him off, pupils blown wide. Liam smirks down at him, fully aware of what his filthy mouth does to Zayn. “Asshole,” Zayn mutters, eyes narrowing.

            “Yes, now fuck me.”

            Zayn snorts at Liam’s demanding tone, but he’s shifting his position, wrapping both hands around Liam’s hips to line them up. Liam reaches down, stroking Zayn’s cock a few times just to hear the way his breath hitches as he lowers himself.

            “Prick,” Zayn forces out, twitching his hips slightly into Liam’s hand like he just can’t help it. “Thought you wanted –”

            Liam doesn’t let him finish, sinking down smoothly onto Zayn’s cock all in one movement that’ll probably leave him unbearably sore tomorrow, but it’s worth it. It’s definitely worth it when Zayn’s mouth goes wide in a long moan, eyes closing like he can’t look at Liam and keep it together.

            And fuck – Liam just loves him.

            “Love you,” he teases, settling himself more comfortably with his arse pressed to Zayn’s thighs, his hands moving to grasp the headboard on either side of Zayn’s head.

            Zayn’s eyes open, and he’s trying to look annoyed but his eyes are dancing with laughter. “Can’t believe I fell in love with such a –”

            Liam shifts, rocking his hips, and he smirks when Zayn cuts of abruptly. “This is a great way to shut you up,” he comments idly, circling his hips until Zayn’s fingers turn white where they dig into his sides. He’ll have bruises tomorrow, and Liam’s pleased by the knowledge. “Should’ve started doing this years ago.”

            “We’ve only been together three years, you donut,” Zayn rolls his eyes, but then hisses a second later when Liam clenches around him.

            “That’s still years, as in plural,” Liam counters. And he doesn’t say how it feels like much longer than that. How even with a year-long engagement (to let people adjust to it or whatever management’s reasoning was) it still feels like they’ve been together for decades.

            “Shut up,” Zayn retorts. “Shut up and fuck me Liam or I swear –”

            Liam kisses him because he really doesn’t care to hear an empty threat. He’d only meant to peck at Zayn’s lips, but it quickly turns rough, unsurprising when they’re in this position. Zayn’s biting at his bottom lip and fucking into his mouth with his tongue, and Liam’s breathless at the show of domination, trying hard to keep up. When Zayn finally pulls back, he settles into the headboard again.

            “Well?” He’s all feigned arrogance with his quirked eyebrow and teasing grin, and it reminds Liam instantly of the first time they fucked like this, with Liam on top. Zayn’s challenging, ‘Make it good, Leeyum,’ had resulted in a Liam with something to prove and the determination to do it. He’d shocked Zayn into complete silence that night, and their orgasms had been mind-blowing. Now Zayn’s looking at Liam like he remembers that, like he wants it again.

            Well, Liam thinks with a slight smile, he can do that.

            His legs tighten around Zayn as he shifts upward, slamming back down before he gives Zayn a chance to realize, and the hiss of pleasure he receives makes him grin. His arms flex as he fucks down again, riding Zayn harder as he sets a punishing pace. Zayn groans, fingers digging in hard as Liam rocks against him.

            “Fucking hell,” Zayn grits out, teeth clenched as he thrusts back, meeting Liam’s hips with a harsh slap every time. “Babe, you’re so – fuck Liam –”

            “Love riding you,” Liam gasps out as Zayn finds his prostate again. He squeezes his eyes shut at the sensation, white crackling like lightning against his eyelids. “Love this feeling, feel so full with you in me. Love being on top, having control. Zayn, love you.”

            Zayn fucks up faster, like Liam’s words are making him lose control, like he doesn’t want to come until Liam does. Liam clenches around him, rocking his hips until Zayn’s always against his prostate, hitting it with every thrust, so that they’re both nearing the edge together.

            The bed is groaning, shaking with their movements, headboard hitting the wall hard and they said they’d do something about that, but Liam doesn’t care. He doesn’t care that they’re probably denting his bedroom wall as Zayn’s nails dig into his hips, delivering a sharp stab of pain that makes Liam’s thoughts stutter.

            He’s coming with Zayn’s name on his tongue, coating their stomachs with his release. He slumps forward, keeping his hips as still as possible as Zayn fucks into him. He bounces with the thrusts, fingers digging into the headboard as Zayn arches into him, going tense and still as he comes. Liam kisses his neck softly when he slumps back down, releasing his hold on the headboard to trace Zayn’s arms instead.

            He giggles into Zayn’s neck, suddenly amused at their actions. “Haven’t fucked like that since we were seventeen.”

            “Are you saying it was over too fast?” Zayn mocks back, his own fingers tracing up and down Liam’s spine.

            “Never.” Liam shifts, letting Zayn slip out of him and noticing how they both wince. He settles easily into the bed next to Zayn, tugging until his fiancé is level with him. Then he promptly cuddles up to Zayn’s side.

            Zayn snorts. “And the lads think I’m clingy.”

            “Shut up,” Liam mumbles, a wave of exhaustion wrapping around him. “I’m tired from riding my prick of a fiancé.”

            “You’re marrying that prick tomorrow.”

            That makes Liam’s mouth widen impossibly into a huge grin that he promptly buries into Zayn’s side. “I am.”

            He can feel more than see Zayn’s answering grin. His fingers dance up his neck until they’re running through his hair, and Liam sighs at the touch.

            “Glad you decided to grow this out again,” Zayn comments, tugging lightly on the top hairs that are indeed a bit longer than the short hair on the sides of Liam’s head.

            “Me too,” he admits, sneaking a leg over both of Zayn’s to drag them closer together.

            “Liked your buzz cut too though.”

            Liam laughs. “Nobody liked the buzz cut.” He’s not sure why he did it actually, some bullshit thing about starting over just after they broke the news about the engagement. He supposes that he should be thankful management requested they wait so long to have the wedding, another year and a handful of months so that their wedding is happening in January, just after Zayn’s birthday, just so his hair could grow back in. And Zayn’s entirely responsible for the almost Mohawk cut he’s got now.

            “I like everything about you,” Zayn declares.

            “Sappy.”

            Zayn responds by turning his head and nudging Liam until Liam tilts his head up. Liam fully expects a kiss on the lips, and lets out a noise of protest when Zayn skirts over his mouth in favor of his jaw. Zayn laughs but then lightly bites down. Liam hisses at the scrape of sharp teeth, arousal low in his stomach even though he’s just come. His hips twitch forward slightly, and Zayn bites harder in response.

             “No marks,” Liam gasps. “Zayn, seriously, if I show up tomorrow with love bites, Louis’ll kill me.”

            “Who the fuck cares?” Zayn mutters into his neck.

            Liam shoves at his shoulder, making Zayn release him with a muffled groan. “You’re the one who told him he could plan the wedding.”

            “Didn’t think he’d take to the idea so quickly. Honestly, if anyone was going to be the closeted wedding fanatic, I’d have pictured Harry. Maybe Niall with how much he loves us being together.”

            “Well you did tell me that Louis was responsible for you asking me, so.”

            Zayn snorts, turning to bury his nose in Liam’s shoulder. “Barely. He’s barely responsible. Honestly he said it like a joke. ‘Why don’t you just ask him to marry you then?’ He was bricking it when he realized I was actually considering it.”

            “Careful, Malik. That’s your best man you’re talking about.”

            He expects Zayn to laugh back, throw in a quip about how Liam picked _Harry_ for his, but instead Zayn stares at him with dark eyes, an interested twitch to his lips.

            “What?”

            “Just,” Zayn starts, shifting again until he’s nearly hovering over Liam. The movement brings them closer together, and Liam’s surprised to feel Zayn’s cock pressing against his hip, half hard again. “You won’t be able to call me that after tomorrow.”

            “What?” Liam’s fairly distracted, doesn’t catch Zayn’s meaning.

            Zayn grins. “Malik. You won’t be able to call me that after tomorrow. It’ll be your last name too, far too confusing.”

            _Oh._ Liam shakes his head in amusement, catching easily the pleased note in Zayn’s voice. “And you said you didn’t care whose name we picked.”

            “I don’t,” Zayn argues. “I’m just saying.”

            Liam rolls his eyes but tugs until Zayn’s closer, pressed completely against him. “You love it,” he remarks. “Possessive bastard.”

            “Might be,” Zayn admits, biting his lower lip lightly. “But if you really want, we can –”

            “Shut up,” Liam cuts him off with a quick kiss. They’ve been over the last name issue dozens of times. He’s not changing his mind, and besides Liam Malik sounds much better than Zayn Payne. “I’m changing my name to yours. Liam Malik.”

            Zayn’s eyes darken instantly, and when he shifts against Liam again, it’s with intent.

            “Christ,” Liam laughs out, only the smallest bit breathless. “You really do like that, don’t you?”

            “Maybe,” Zayn says again, but his fierce grin opposes his words.

            Liam just grins up at him, not the least bit bothered by this newest thing. He doesn’t mind Zayn’s slightly possessive nature, especially in the way it usually manifests. (More sex, more marks, more of Zayn growling into his ear).

            “We’re getting married,” he whispers, smile only growing wider as he looks up at Zayn perched above him in the bed they’ve been sharing in Liam’s flat for their entire relationship it feels like.

            Zayn rolls his eyes, but he’s all fond exasperation, and Liam knows that Zayn’s just as excited as he is. “Yeah babe,” he leans down to press a soft kiss to Liam’s lips. “We’re getting married.”

 

* * *

 

_They get married like this –_

It’s almost exactly three years after their loss at X Factor and prompt signing as a band. It’s almost exactly three years of their lives turning completely around. It’s almost exactly three – no four – years of being ridiculously in love. It’s the end of January, and it’s their wedding day. And it all goes a little something like this –

 

            “Can’t believe we’re doing this,” Zayn mutters as he shuffles up to Liam.

            Liam just smiles, wrapping his arms firmly around Zayn and pulling until the other boy is close to him. (Though not close enough, never close enough).

            “It’s our first dance, babe,” he argues back lightly. “You promised.”

            Zayn sighs, but gives in easily, like Liam knew he would. He raises his arms to wrap around Liam’s neck, letting Liam settle them more firmly into position. He doesn’t put up a fight as Liam begins swaying them, but an unhappy twist pulls at his lips.

            “Everyone’s staring,” he mutters darkly, eyes everywhere but on Liam.

            “You wouldn’t be nearly as self-conscious if your hair wasn’t completely fucked,” Liam retorts, still grinning even in the face of Zayn’s grumpiness. He knows it’s not actually aimed at him, but rather at Zayn’s own nerves. He hates that he’s uncomfortable with their friends and family watching them.

            “And whose fault is that?” Zayn demands incredulously.  
            “Yours,” Liam returns firmly, refusing to accept responsibility even though his fingers are the ones that pulled and yanked until Zayn’s hair was a complete mess. “You’re the one who dragged me off to that bathroom, for ‘just a quick hand job, Liam I swear.’”

            That finally gets Zayn to look at him. “It was a quick hand job.”

            “Yeah, right up until you dropped to your knees.”

            Zayn smirks at him. “Didn’t hear you complaining when I was sucking your dick.”

            Liam doesn’t even try to argue that, just pulls Zayn closer until their chests are touching, knees knocking every time they shift, but he doesn’t care. He doesn’t care that they’re hardly moving out on this dance floor. He doesn’t care about anything but Zayn and their new, matching rings.

            “This is –” Zayn breaks off and clears his throat when his voice comes out like a croak.

            Liam can’t contain his loud laugh at that. “Guess we can’t let you give the thank you for coming speech. Your voice sounds awful.”

            “I wasn’t the one who decided he needed to fuck my mouth,” Zayn laughs. “Not that I’m complaining, would deep-throat you every day if you wanted.”

            “Zayn,” Liam hisses, his face flushing a bright red as he glances around the dance floor, worried that someone might have heard them. Literally everyone is watching them as they twirl around the floor to a slow song that they both love for their first dance as a married couple. It’s meant to be a soft, touching moment, definitely not the place to be talking about fucking people’s mouths.

            “Oh sure, now you’re self-conscious,” Zayn teases him, and Liam swears he’d be upset about if Zayn didn’t give him that heart-melting smile.

            He still frowns at him though. “Just try to enjoy it, yeah? I know you don’t like everyone staring, but it’s only the one dance.”

            Zayn blinks, expression clearing with surprise. His hands clasped behind Liam’s neck release, and then one of his hands is cupping the back of Liam’s neck. “Hey, Liam, no,” he breathes, gently pressing until Liam bends his neck so their foreheads can touch. “I’m not – I know I’ve complained about this, and I really don’t like the staring, but I’m not miserable. Christ, babe, I’m deliriously happy, yeah?”

            He’s grinning dopily at Liam, looking like a complete dork as they continue to sway on the dance floor, and his eyes are so clear that Liam instantly believes him. Still he asks, “Yeah?” because he needs to know. He needs to know that Zayn loves every part of this as much as he does.

            “Yes,” Zayn stresses. “I’ve loved every second of this day. From Harry and Louis pulling us from bed this morning to your mum fussing with our tuxes to watching you walk towards me as I walked towards you down that endlessly long aisle. There is not a second of this day that I would change.”

            It’s way more than Liam was expecting, and he can feel his eyes wanting to tear up with emotion. He tries to shove it back, not wanting to cry while everyone watches them. “Not even all of the pictures we took?” he jokes back.

            Zayn rolls his eyes, like he sees right through Liam’s weak humor. He probably does, but he plays along. “Even all of those awful photos we posed through that are going to turn out horrible by the way because you kept making me laugh in the middle of them.”

            Liam doesn’t even try to convince Zayn that he actually looks amazing when he’s genuinely laughing in a photo. He doesn’t want to admit yet that he might’ve been purposefully making Zayn laugh because that’s what he wanted their wedding photos to look like – genuine and full of laughter and affection.

            He wanted this entire day to be full of nothing but affection and laughter and love, and he thinks that they actually pulled it off. From the actual ceremony (which they’d had Niall officiate for some reason that Liam hadn’t quite been able to recall when the Irishman had been cracking jokes most of the way through) to this reception (with their families and closest friends and copious amounts of alcohol and so much love), he thinks they definitely succeeded.

            It wasn’t traditional, not any of it, but he loved every second of it. Still loves every second it, especially the thrum of happiness and want in his gut every time he glances Zayn’s rings or remembers that _he has a husband now._

            “Li?” Zayn’s head tilts curiously, though he keeps their foreheads pressed together.

            A large grin overtakes Liam’s face. “I just love you, yeah?”

            Zayn laughs, throwing his head back with it. When he comes back, he presses an overly fond kiss to Liam’s nose. “I love you too, you absolute dork. I cannot wait to spend my entire life with you.”

            “Forever?” Liam challenges, very aware that their little break, this small dance where they’re alone, is almost over. After this, they’ll have to go back to their families, have to let themselves be surrounded and congratulated and harassed with embarrassing stories. They won’t be truly alone again until tonight, and it feels so far away, so Liam’s trying to make the most out of this last moment.

            “Forever,” Zayn echoes, moving one hand to press against Liam’s heart like he can feel its warmth through the layer of Liam’s shirt. “Think you can handle that?”

            Liam kisses him then, because he wants to and because he can and because, even though he gets to have this for the rest of his life now, he doesn’t think he’ll ever grow tired of it. He kisses Zayn until they stop moving to the song, until the music stops, until their friends and families start catcalling them.

            When they break apart, Liam presses their foreheads back together, still unwilling to let Zayn move away from him.

            “Yeah,” he breathes out. “I think I can handle that.”

 

            Much later when they finally get the pictures, Liam forces Zayn to sit and sort through them with him, and he’s delighted by the way they turned out. There are all the formal ones, the ones of the actual ceremony that seem a bit stiff, like Liam had thought they would. They’re not awful though, and beyond them are the ones that take Liam’s breath away.

            Their photographer (a friend of Harry’s) was brilliant. She captured all the little moments – Zayn laughing at Liam pulling a face, their eyes snagging as they each hugged someone meters apart, Liam burying his nose in Zayn’s hair. There are shots of them shoving cake into their bandmates faces, and shots of them with their sisters, and one memorable one of Zayn curled up in Liam’s lap as Liam is talking to Yaser.

The ones of them dancing to their first song though, those are Liam’s favorites.

            There’s a shot of them with their foreheads pressed together, eyes serious, and then another one where their foreheads are still pushed together but they’re grinning at each other. There’s one of them when they first started dancing, Liam’s lips quirked into a grin as Zayn fondly rolls his eyes. One of Liam clearly flushing, eyes downcast as Zayn laughs at him.

The very best one though, the absolute best one, is towards the end of the dance, when they had finally settled.

            The photographer gave them a copy of it in black and white along with the original, and Liam’s so in love with it that he wants a thousand prints. Zayn’s hand is pressed to his chest in the photo, ring clearly winking under the lights. He’s gazing up at Liam through his lashes, slightly smiling, but his eyes make his love clear. And Liam – he’s gazing back at Zayn like he’s the entire world. The smile overtaking his face is large enough to make his eyes crinkle, and they’re leaning towards each other, like even though they’re dancing, they aren’t nearly close enough.

            It’s amazing is what it is, and when they finally see it, they both go quiet for a few moments as they study it.

            “So,” Zayn breaks the silence. “That’s what we look like.”

            And Liam gets it immediately. The other three boys (and their families too actually) all tease them about how they look at each other, and Liam had thought he knew what that meant. But now, looking at this photo, he thinks that he actually gets it. _This_ is how they look at each other.

            He’s not even surprised when Zayn pounces on him, not surprised at all when they stumble their way to bed after and fuck so slowly that Liam feels it in every centimeter of his body.

            And he doesn’t tell Zayn, but that’s the photo that he gets a smaller copy of. That’s the photo that he keeps in his wallet, on his person at all times.

            That’s their photo.

 

* * *

 

_They buy their first house together like this –_

They have to wait until their next break from touring before they can move into the house they bought back in January, just days before their wedding. It’s their first home together, and Liam tries not to act too giddy about that, knowing that Zayn will mock him endlessly for it but – It feels amazing. It feels fantastic, wearing this wedding band and looking at Zayn and just knowing that like, _oh, right he’s my husband._ It’s everything Liam always wanted, and he doesn’t care if they’re a bit young still. It feels right, even when Zayn’s being unhelpful like now –

 

            “You’re useless.”

            Zayn arches his neck, tilting his head back until he can grin widely at Liam from where he’s sprawled out on the couch. It was the first piece of furniture they moved in, at Zayn’s insistence, and Liam is only now realizing what a mistake that had been.

            “But you love me, and you’re so much better at lifting heavy things,” Zayn teases, shuffling around so he’s laying more comfortably. The way he wags his eyebrows at Liam is playfully suggestive, and Liam doesn’t even try to bite back the laugh tickling his throat.

            “I don’t think ‘better at lifting heavy things’ is actually a skill, jaan.”

            Zayn flushes at the familiar word, still somehow flustered by it slipping off of Liam’s tongue even after months of Liam using it every chance he gets.

            (And Liam still remembers the very first time he dared to finally say it. Three days after their wedding with Zayn laid out underneath him, glistening with sweat from their second – no third – round because they were on their honeymoon. Waliyha had pulled him aside, told him what the word meant, made him practice it until it sounded familiar in his mouth, all because she knew that Zayn had a soft spot for it. When Liam had finally whispered it, pressed to Zayn’s skin with a tender kiss, Zayn had bolted upright. Liam had been terrified for a moment that he’d managed to mess it up, but then Zayn had basically jumped him and well – )

            “Li,” he whines, scooting over to empty one side of the (admittedly) large couch. “Come lay with me. We can unpack the rest later.”

            Liam snorts, endlessly fond of this boy even when he’s trying to be stern. Louis likes to tease him for it, the way he can’t seem to hide his love even when he’s angry with Zayn (which is a rare enough occurrence) but Liam doesn’t care. He doesn’t care if it’s completely obvious that he loves Zayn so much, because he knows that Zayn loves him in the same way.

            He never thought he’d be this confident in any relationship, and he loves it. Every single part of it.

            “We’ve got loads of stuff Zayn,” he tries to reason. “Ridiculous amounts, babe. No way we’re going to finish it all if we lay about on the couch all day.”

            “It’s your fault,” Zayn pouts. “You’re the one who wanted this massive place. I was fine with a flat in the city.”

            Zayn really was, but Liam wanted this. He wanted this massive home just outside of London with space and privacy and freedom from the fame. A proper family home, his mum teased him, and well, it was. Liam isn’t going to pretend that he hasn’t pictured that with Zayn – a dog or two and the patter of little feet on hardwood that belongs to two, maybe three, kids and their families meeting here because they have the room for it. Liam’s definitely thought about it, even though he won’t tell Zayn (not yet).

            It just – this home feels like a real first home, like they’ve really done this. Gotten married and settled down and promised a forever to each other that they won’t take back. The house means a lot to Liam, and it’s not his fault that he just wants to fill it with their things and make it theirs already.

            Zayn groans, snagging Liam’s attention again. “Babe, seriously. An hour break won’t hurt anyone. Come cuddle with me.”

            Liam tries to frown but can’t quite succeed as he wanders closer. He places one hand on either side of Zayn’s head, resting against the arm of the couch as he hovers above Zayn’s face. Zayn grins at him, upside down, and Liam’s instantly thinking of that kiss from Spiderman, and it’s entirely possible that he and Zayn have done that (and Harry had nearly torn something, laughing at them), but he can’t be distracted right now.

            He wants _their_ stuff in _their_ home, and then he wants to stay in their home with _his_ husband for the next four months straight.

            So he barters, “Help me sort the bed, and you can fuck me in it.”

            Zayn goes perfectly, beautifully still, and then he’s bolting up. He smacks a quick, hard kiss to Liam’s surprised mouth before he’s nearly running toward the front door. “I fucking love you,” he hollers back over his shoulder.

            Liam laughs, loud and carefree, and so, so desperately in love with not only Zayn but the entire life they’ve created together.

 

            And later, he does let Zayn fuck him on their brand new bed in their brand new home, because he’s always a man of his word.

 

* * *

 

_They continue their lives like this –_

It’s hard being a member of the biggest boy band in the world when you’re married. At first, Liam was sure that it wouldn’t change anything at all, but it does. Of course it does. But he and Zayn do their best to deal with it together and not apart. Married life is – it’s different because they’re still always on the road and they feel like they’re still kids, just going with what everyone tells them because they don’t know what they’re doing. It’s hard. But then Zayn will look at Liam (in bed, when they’re walking, on stage) and it’ll all settle back down again, and Liam will know that it’s all worth it, especially at times like this –

 

            “How are you guys doing?” Niall hollers into his mic, fingers dancing over the strings of his guitar like he just can’t help it. He’s grinning, face nearly splitting with it, and Liam can’t stop his own giggle from bubbling up.

            The arena screams back at them, and Zayn shakes his head fondly, wandering up to Liam’s side and slinging an easy arm around his hips. The screams only grow louder, and Louis rolls his eyes.

            This is their second tour since Zayn and Liam tied the knot (their fifth and final tour actually, but they’re all trying not to really think about that), and the fans still react like the news has just broken.

            “Yeah, yeah,” Louis smirks into his own mic. “They’re adorable. We know guys.”

            “Lou,” Harry chastises, wandering closer on his large feet. “Be nice, yeah? It’s their anniversary after all.”

            The screams reach a truly deafening level, even with their in-ear pieces, and Liam winces, just slightly.

            “How many years, lads?” Niall teases. “Don’t think I can remember.”

            Before Zayn can even try to answer, the crowd is yelling, “Two!”

            Liam laughs, burying his face in Zayn’s neck because he’s kind of embarrassed. It’s weird, having so many people tracking their marriage like they’re invested in it somehow, but it’s also positive and supportive, so Liam tries not to complain too much.

            (Zayn, on the other hand, has been making it clearer and clearer that he’s no longer enjoying the fame aspect of their careers. That he’s tired of having their moves tracked. That he wants out. And their fifth tour is ending, along with their contracts, so they can – But Liam’s trying not to think about it right now).

            “Since we got married,” Zayn amends. “But we’ve been together for like five and a half years now.”

            “Almost six,” Liam can’t help but murmur into his own mic, blushing heavily when laughter echoes around the arena.

            Zayn melts, features going soft with affection, and it’s a look that he only gives Liam. Liam guards it jealously. As Zayn’s hand comes up to fondly trace over Liam’s jaw, he nuzzles into the touch, wanting more. Always wanting more.

            “And they’re choosing to spend their second anniversary as Mr. and Mr. Malik with you guys!”

            Louis’s exclamation is clearly meant to give Liam and Zayn a moment alone, or well as alone as they can be onstage with literally thousands of fans, but they both take it greedily. Coming together, they wrap around each other, legs slotting, feet tangling, chests bumping until they’re breathing the same air.

            “Love you, Li,” Zayn mutters.

            Liam hums, a dorky grin stealing over his face for all of their fans to capture. He doesn’t care if they all get a photo of it though. “Love you too.”

            “Christ, I hope so,” Zayn sighs out, pressing a quick kiss just under Liam’s jaw. Before Liam can even attempt to puzzle that out, Zayn’s pulling away, heavy flush on his cheeks as he nervously smiles back at Liam.

            Niall cheers when he sees Zayn stepping away. “Alright folks, now we’ve got a surprise for you!”

            Liam’s heart stops and then races because there’s no way –

            “That’s right,” Louis looks like his birthday has come early. “Zayner here has turned sappy from marrying our Leeymo, and he’s got a present for his husband and all of you!”

            _No fucking way._ Liam can feel his face widening around a huge grin as Zayn shuffles forward to the edge of the stage, clearly uneasy but also determined. It’s in the set of his shoulders as Harry, Louis, and Niall all step back, lining up behind him like background vocalists.

            Liam just barely bites back a laugh as Zayn faces him. He _knows_ what’s coming, but he still can’t believe it.

            “So, uh, this is for Liam,” Zayn breathes out, nearly tripping over his own tongue. Laughter races around the arena. “Right,” he chuckles at himself. “Guess you already knew that. I’m not very good at things like this, but I’m sure you all know that too.”

            More laughter, and Liam feels himself joining in, nervously bouncing on his heels because he has no idea what he’s supposed to do. He never thought in a million years that Zayn – quiet, reserved Zayn – would make a grand gesture like this. It’s definitely more up Liam’s alley, something he would do and –

            _Oh._ He realizes a bit belatedly, that’s exactly the point. Zayn’s giving Liam something that he would want but would never ask for. Fuck, Liam loves him.

            “Li,” Zayn calls, voice going soft as he smiles at him. “I’m sorry that we couldn’t get away for our anniversary, but I hope this makes up for it. I never really have the words to tell you how I feel, but this song – our song in fact – does it perfectly. So, here it is – Eighteen.”

            Liam chokes on a laugh, almost shaking his head in disbelief. Ed wrote this song for them, and yeah alright so they’ve loved each since they were seventeen, but the thought is there. It’s – well it’s just them, right? Liam cried the first time he heard it, and now he can feel himself tearing up again as Zayn croons.

            He can barely focus on the lyrics, far too busy watching Zayn’s face. Warmth, that’s what Liam mostly thinks when he looks at Zayn. He feels warm when Zayn’s looking at him, comfortable like he’s exactly where he should be. He’s moving forward, crowding into Zayn because he can’t stand to be far from him right now. Or ever, really, but especially not right now.

            _I have loved you since we were eighteen._

            Zayn laughs when he finishes his note, the other three boys picking up the chorus and singing softly behind them as Liam presses a swift, soft kiss to Zayn’s lips.

            He ignores the way the crowd goes insane to focus on Zayn. “Sappy,” he says, knowing that Zayn will hear the thousands of layers of love hidden in that one word. “So sappy Malik.”

            “Can’t help it with you, Mr. Malik,” Zayn teases back.

            And it’s insane how that still sends a hot thrum of arousal through Liam, two _years_ after he officially changed his name.

            Liam presses closer, letting their foreheads rest together so they can sway as the other lads continue to sing softly behind them. It’s very close to their first dance, and Liam will tease Zayn about this one day.

            Not right now though. Right now he just wants to focus on this – right here right now with Zayn.

            Two years, and he can’t wait for every other year of his life, together, with Zayn.

            And it’s sort of extremely fitting, the last lines of the song –

            _I want a love like you made me feel when we were eighteen._

 

* * *

 

_They have to separate for the first time like this –_

Liam’s twenty three by the time One Direction finally calls it quits, and it’s an adjustment. It’s actually insane going from being a huge celebrity to being just Liam again, and he’s so grateful that he has Zayn throughout it all. Zayn, and the lads actually because no matter what the media says, it was an amicable disbandment, a joint decision. Zayn wanted out, and Louis was growing tired of it, and Liam just wanted to settle into married life with Zayn. Harry and Niall were happy enough to move on as well, and the first few months were odd, of course, but it quickly faded. Liam and Zayn moved permanently into their home outside of London, and they just relaxed. They relaxed into each other, getting that married life they really hadn’t experienced for the first few years of their marriage.

            It was wonderful for the first year, but soon Liam was growing antsy. He wanted back into the music business, and when he finally admitted as much to Zayn, he was surprised by how quickly Zayn agreed. But Zayn has always known Liam better than Liam knows himself, so when Liam’s twenty three, he starts his career again like this –

 

            “Babe,” Liam croaks, voice completely wrecked from Zayn fucking his throat raw earlier, but it’s nothing compared to how tightly Zayn clenches around him now.

            “Harder, Li,” Zayn chants. “Jaan, please, harder, I need –”

            Liam complies, sliding his feet farther apart and praying that he doesn’t slip on the slick shower floor. The shower is not the place to fuck against the wall, but when Zayn had snuck in it had escalated so quickly. Liam’s not entirely sure how they ended up like this – Zayn pressed into the wall, legs wrapped firmly around Liam’s waist as Liam supports him with firm arms as Liam pounds into him. It’s hard and fast and something they really don’t do all that often, not in this position, and Liam’s desperate for it.

            He jackhammers into Zayn now, cutting off Zayn’s voice as he slips deeper into his slick heat. He’s bare, rubbing inside of Zayn just along his prostate as he rocks upward, twisting to maintain that angle. It’s got Zayn’s nails racking down his back, leaving marks that sting on just this side of pleasure, and Liam’s pressing harder into him as Zayn arches.

            “Leeyum,” Zayn moans, eyes squeezed tight like he’s focusing on just the sensations. His cock is trapped between them, slicking both their stomachs shiny with precum.

            Liam’s thinking of how he hadn’t even had to prep Zayn really, how Zayn had still been loose from the night before, opened by Liam’s impatient fingers. He’d done minimal prep, Zayn begging for his cock, and Zayn’s so tight around him now. They’re flirting with that line of pleasure and pain, both of them, and Liam loves this.

            He loves any sex with Zayn, but he really, really loves this right now.

            “Fuck,” he stutters his hips when Zayn unexpectedly clenches around him. “Zayn –”

            The smirk on Zayn’s lips distracts Liam, his hips losing all rhythm because Zayn looks _beautiful_ like this. It’s been six, almost seven, years since Liam had met him, but Liam’s still blown away by how attractive Zayn is.

            “Mine,” Zayn nearly purrs, eyes opening to look at Liam, and his throat clicks at the possessiveness in their dark depths. “My Liam.”

            Liam’s dick twitches as he groans in surrender. He shifts up again, nearly on his toes as he moves for just the right angle to –

            Zayn’s head snaps back with the force of his keen, throat bared almost in submission as he arches painfully into Liam’s thrusts. He’s right along Zayn’s prostate, determined to keep fucking against it right there because he wants to make this good for Zayn.

            “So good,” Liam sighs out. “Always so good, baby, want to make it just as good for you. Always want you tight around my cock, always inside me. Want to mark you up, make you mine too, want –”

            Zayn smashes their lips together before Liam can go on, groaning into the hard kiss like he can’t stand to hear Liam talk like that (still, six years later). He’s bouncing with the force of Liam’s thrusts now, back sure to be bruised from the tile that Liam’s arms can’t protect him from.

            “Just meant to blow you,” Zayn gasps. “Didn’t mean to –”

            Liam chuckles, biting lightly along the side of Zayn’s neck as he slows his pace just fractionally, dragging it out for that much longer. “Sure you didn’t babe.”

            “Wanted to pay you back for last night, eating me out babe like –”

            Liam whines, low in his throat, and throws their lips together to quiet Zayn. He can’t think about the way Zayn had trembled underneath his tongue last night, the way he’d opened up so easy, slick and wet and on edge just from Liam’s tongue. The way he’d almost cum just from Liam fucking into him with the muscle, rim stretched tight, and Liam swears he can still taste Zayn in his mouth.

            “Gonna cum if you keep that up,” he mumbles when he pulls back, just enough so they can both breathe.

            Zayn giggles, the noise breaking halfway through to morph into another loud moan that echoes around their bathroom. “Fuck, Li, I’m close.”

            “Me too,” Liam swears, feeling that familiar pull low in his gut. His cock is twitching in Zayn, everything almost too much, but he loves it. He loves every second of this feeling. It’s all heat and damp breath and pouring water and sweat, red on the backs of Liam’s eyelids every time he blinks that matches the red of his emotions. Passion, he thinks people call it, but it always feels like love. It doesn’t matter how hard he and Zayn fuck.

            “Want you to cum,” Liam commands. “Zayn, jaan please. Need you to cum on us, need you to go first. Want to feel you, need you to –”

            Zayn arches up, spine curving away from the wall as he presses his shoulders back, like he’s eager to follow Liam’s orders, like he possibly just wants to please Liam as much as Liam always wants to please him.

            Liam sneaks a hand between their bellies, wrapping firm fingers around Zayn’s cock just to hear the stutter in his breathing. He flicks deft fingers over the head before pressing his thumb against the nerves just under it, waiting for –

            Zayn comes with a high noise lodged deep in his throat, slumping against Liam after every single muscle goes taut. He clings to him as Liam fucks up into his tight heat a few more times, gasping out Zayn’s name on his release. Liam slumps forward into him, barely catching them against the wall. Reluctantly, he lets Zayn slide from his tight hold, making sure Zayn has his feet before he lets go completely.

            He presses his forehead against Zayn’s when they’re both standing, knees a little weak from the afterglow of his orgasm. Sharing air, they come back down together.

            “You know,” Liam hums. “I came in here to get clean.”

            Zayn grins, letting his eyes drift shut like he’s completely content. “You’re not the one with spunk dripping out of his –”

            “Zayn.”

            He laughs, his entire body shifting with it, and Liam hungrily takes in the sight of a naked Zayn laughing in front of him.

            He hasn’t changed that much from the lad Liam met in that McDonald’s. He’s still all thin, wiry limbs, tight muscles and fine features. His hair has grown out, shaved on the sides but long on top so he can pull it back in a topknot. Liam loves the hairstyle, but he loves all of Zayn’s ink even more.

            His husband is a treasure map of stories, each and every piece connected to them somehow. Liam’s favorite thing is to strip Zayn down, trace over every spot of ink and make Zayn tell him the story behind each piece again and again. Zayn’s always a shaking mess by the end of it, and Liam’s not much better off.

            Zayn’s fingers come up, tracing Liam’s own ink scattered across his ribs (that piece that nobody actually knows about yet) like he’s thinking all of the same things that Liam is.

            _Telepathy,_ Liam remembers, Niall’s voice from ages ago. Sometimes, he truly thinks that Zayn can read his mind.

            “Gonna miss my ride,” Liam mutters.

            Zayn tenses under him, but then quickly corrects himself, going back to tracing Liam’s ribs like he hopes that Liam hadn’t noticed but of course Liam did.

            His heart skips a beat as Liam studies the way Zayn’s relaxed features have shifted a bit. His eyes are no longer relaxed shut but squinted shut, like Zayn’s avoiding something. “Babe?”

            “Right,” Zayn breathes out, blinking his eyes open but not quite looking at Liam. “You should rinse off again and I’ll just –”

            “Zayn,” Liam makes his voice firm enough to cut across Zayn’s rambling. His hands come up to cradle Zayn’s face, sure when he’s feeling a bit uncertain.

            Zayn melts into his touch, hands coming up to wrap around Liam’s wrists, but not to push him away. Zayn’s clinging like he’s afraid that _Liam_ will let go. Like Liam’s going to leave him and –

            “Oh.” It’s just an exhalation, barely any sound to it at all, but Zayn’s eyes snap up to his as his face colors. Liam’s heart thuds painfully in his chest as he gets it. He should’ve known, should’ve realized when Zayn followed him into his shower even though it’s still far too early for the other man. “Babe, why didn’t you tell me?”

            Zayn shakes his head, casting his eyes downward as he bites his lip. “It’s stupid.”

            Liam pulls his face back up. “Hey, no. Zayn nothing you feel is ever stupid.”

            Zayn’s lips quirks, but the smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “I just – it’s the first time we’ll be separated, yeah? I guess – I’m just not as ready for it as I thought I was.”

            Liam swears he can hear his heart break, just a little. He hadn’t realized Zayn was hurting, that Zayn was even bothered by this. He should have though. It’s been bothering him too after all. It’s the first time he and Zayn will spend any significant amount of time apart, and it’s terrifying. Simon once warned the boys about being too close, pitching ideas like separation anxiety to them, and Liam never really knew the definition of that until now.

            “I can stay.” It’s out of Liam’s mouth immediately.

            Zayn looks horrified. “Absolutely not, Liam James Malik. You’ve worked so hard. I’m just being dumb, a proper knob about it.”

            “You aren’t,” Liam counters. “I’ve been worried about it too. Gonna miss you loads.”

            That seems to actually register with Zayn, some of the tension leaking from his body. “Yeah?”

            “Course,” Liam nods firmly, letting Zayn see the truth in his eyes. “It’s not like this is what I actually planned on. It was meant to be just an album, a few songs because producing wasn’t enough. Never thought –”

            “Never thought you’d be amazing?” Zayn’s smile is genuine now as he beams at Liam, and he’s proud. It shocks Liam how proud Zayn is of him now, like Liam’s amazing.

            “I’m not,” he protests. “It’s just a silly solo album. Nothing like Harry or even Ni in Ireland, right?”

            “Wrong. The album’s good, babe. You’re touring for a reason.”

            Liam bites his lip, but his eyes crinkle at the corners as he fights a smile. He is really proud of himself, him and his little album. When he’d talked to Zayn about getting back into the music business, he’d intended to just produce. He’d barely been back three months though before he was writing and singing again, getting picked up because he was still marketable. The album had just happened, a handful of songs that really meant something to him, and he’d been surprised when it had been somewhat popular. Now, he’s leaving on a small tour, just around England and such, and it’s something he’s missed but nothing he thinks he actually needs so –

            “If you want me to stay,” he starts.

            “Shut up.”

            “Zayn –”

            Zayn shakes his head, a small smile on his mouth. “You deserve to go babe. You worked hard. I’m proud of you. I would never want to hold you back.”

            “You aren’t –”

            “I would be,” Zayn argues gently. “If you stayed just because I don’t want to be without you, I would be holding you back. We both know it.”

            Liam sighs out because yeah, Zayn has a point. They’ve always been so careful to respect what the other wants, learning and relearning the definition of compromise because they had to. It was never easy, making them work, but it was always worth it. It’s still worth it now, so Liam stops fighting Zayn.

            He presses a kiss to Zayn’s forehead. “It’s only a couple of months.”

            Zayn sighs out and wraps himself around Liam slowly, like he’s savoring every brush of their skin. “I know, Li. I’ll be fine. I’m just gonna miss you, is all.”

            “Promise?”

            “That I’ll miss you?”

            Liam rolls his eyes where Zayn can’t see. “No. Promise that you’ll be fine?”

            Zayn presses a simple kiss to Liam’s birthmark. “Promise.”

 

            Zayn watches him leave from the doorway, and Liam almost wants to tell him not to. It’s hard to watch Zayn staying behind as he goes, much harder than he ever imagined it would be. The sight of Zayn, leaning in the front door in Liam’s clothes, his hair loose around his face as their dogs play by his feet, a small smile on his face as he gazes back at Liam, it tugs just behind Liam’s navel.

            _It’s just a few months,_ he reminds himself as he shuffles into the waiting car. _Just a couple of months, a handful of weeks. It’ll be fine._

            He still watches out the back window until he can’t make out Zayn’s figure anymore, heart aching at the loss of Zayn’s physical presence.

 

* * *

 

_They give up on pretending they can do this just like this –_

Liam’s barely been on the road for three weeks when he cracks and calls Zayn just to say that he can’t do this. He can’t take the separation, the distance that they’ve never had to get used to. He doesn’t want it, doesn’t care if it seems unhealthy to need Zayn by his side, always. Zayn’s on the next plane out to where Liam is, and they have a sappy reunion in the airport that the paparazzi catches of course, and Liam doesn’t even care when Louis calls him to mock them for it. He performs much better the rest of that tour, always better when Zayn’s by his side. So when he gets greenlit for another tour, he makes sure to include Zayn in every single part of it –

 

 

He hadn’t meant to call Zayn onstage. Really, he hadn’t. It’s just – he’d seen Zayn in the wings, grinning at him like he was proud of Liam, and before he’d realized, Liam had been singing to him, and the crowd had gone mental once they’d figured it out.

            “Sorry, babe,” he mutters into Zayn’s ear, careful to keep his mic far enough away that it won’t pick the words up. He flashes the crowd a smile when they cheer louder, catcalling him for the way he’s wrapped around Zayn no doubt. It’s his apology for this though, because he really hadn’t meant to force Zayn onstage like this.

            Zayn snorts, leaning back into Liam’s chest until Liam is forced to wrap an arm around him just to keep them stable. Back to front, they face the cheering crowd as Zayn mutters, “No you’re not. You love it.”

            “Showing you off?” Liam teases, hooking his chin over Zayn’s shoulder. “Of course I do.” And he means it. If Liam had his way, he’d always have Zayn by his side, showing off his incredible husband and making everyone else see just how great he is. (And Zayn can mock him all he wants for how ridiculous that is – Liam doesn’t care). But Zayn’s retired permanently from the spotlight, and standing onstage in front of all of Liam’s fans is probably not what he wanted today.

            He presses a light kiss over the fabric on Zayn’s shoulder in apology. Zayn hums happily.

            “Oi, cut it out lovebirds,” Matt the drummer calls into his own mic, causing the audience to laugh. “Payno, aren’t we meant to be performing or something?”

            Liam pulls back just enough to get his mic up. “Shut it Mathew. You wouldn’t understand.”

            “Understand how clingy you two are?” Mathew’s smile is wide enough to rival Niall’s natural grin (and its possibly one of the reasons Liam hired him, because even now he misses his boys), and it isn’t the first time his drummer has reminded him of the Irishman. “Please, mate. I’m on the road with you two twenty four seven. I understand plenty.”

            “Well if you had a fit husband –”

            “Yeah, yeah,” Mathew waves him off. “You two are stupidly in love, got your own love songs and everything. We all know. Let the poor man go!”

            Liam just tightens his hold on Zayn who’s grinning and waving at the crowd, pulling faces when someone raises a camera nearby. “Never,” Liam laughs.

            The rest of the band coos while Mathew feigns gagging over his drum kit.

            Liam’s just about to let Zayn go (reluctantly of course because as much as he loves performing still, he loves Zayn more) when the band strikes up a familiar tune.

            Zayn immediately groans and throws his head back on Liam’s shoulder. “Fuck no.”

            Liam tries to look annoyed, to support Zayn’s obvious embarrassment, but his lips betray him and tug into a grin at the beginning of a song all too recognizable.

            The crowd goes wild of course, once they catch on, and then it’s being chanted around the arena. “I Promise! I Promise! I Promise!” The band joins them, still playing the intro to the song on loop, just waiting for Liam to give in.

            And Liam wants to, but not if Zayn doesn’t want it. “Babe?”

            Zayn groans again. “No way. I’m not staying onstage for this. It’s a sappy song.”

            Liam pouts. “But I wrote it for you.”

            “Leeyum,” Zayn turns around in the circle of Liam’s arms, returning Liam’s pout and looking much better at it. “It’s embarrassing.”

            The faint flush on Zayn’s cheeks supports his statement, but Liam knows it’s all a front. Zayn loves the song just as much as, if not more than, Liam does.

            (And Liam can still remember the first time he played it for Zayn, hands sweating over the keys of their piano at home because he was nervous. It was the first love song he’d written on his own, the first song that would be solely about Zayn. There was no denying what it was either: a sappy declaration of love that read like vows and was inspired by all the promises they had made to each other over the years. When he’d finished, that last haunting note ringing in the air, they’d sat in uncomfortable silence for moments on end. Just as Liam had finally convinced himself that it had been awful, Zayn had been on him. Clinging to him, Zayn had pressed kiss after kiss onto his mouth, over his cheeks, onto the tip of his nose. Liam had been powerless against Zayn’s plea of “Take me to bed, Li” and they’d made love – slow and soft and powerful – until they were both sweaty and sated. When they’d finally curled around each other, Zayn had whispered, “Sing it again,” and Liam had, right there acapella. Now it was their thing, that one request Zayn continuously made that Liam could never refuse. He’s lost track of how many times he’s sung the song quietly, just for them).

            “Sing it with me,” Liam requests, ignoring Zayn’s protests.

            Zayn’s eyes widen, and he’s shaking his head quickly. Liam just grins, keeping Zayn close as he raises his mic and sets in, picking up the song easily:

            “You inked our promises into your skin, I suppose it’s only right then that I sing them out like this.”

            The crowd goes insane, screaming and almost drowning out the music. Liam doesn’t need it though, not to sing this song. He doesn’t need anything but Zayn’s eyes on him to remember every word, every note, every bridge.

            “You mean everything to me, and I’m sorry that I ask so much. I want a lot but mostly I just want your touch.”

            Zayn’s shaking his head still, glancing down shyly as he tears into his bottom lip. Liam knows he’s fighting his natural grin, so he persists.

            “I’m leaving you now, babe, but if you asked, we both know I’d stay. These rings on our fingers are only part of our love, just as permanent as this dove.”

            Liam traces the bird on the back of Zayn’s hand out of pure habit, and he just barely catches the shudder that rocks through Zayn. His grin grows as Zayn finally looks back at him, just in time for the chorus.

            “So I promise to love you babe. You know there’s no way I’d ever stray. Even when I’m far away, I crave your voice every day. To remind you of this, I say – I promise babe.”

            (And yeah, the song is inspired by that rough moment when Liam left on his first tour, and he’d made Zayn promise him. He’d penned the song while on that tour, and it’d been put on his second solo album).

            Zayn’s mouthing along to the chorus, like he can’t help it, and Liam only jumps a little when a spare mic is suddenly shoved over his shoulder. Zayn blinks at it in surprise as Liam turns to catch a wink from his guitarist, Devon. Liam just barely muffles his snort when he turns back to see Zayn hesitantly holding the mic up.

            He winks, knowing how horrible he’ll look but not caring because it makes Zayn crack up, relaxing him.

            Liam crowds into his space to whisper in his ear, “Yeah?” He doesn’t want to force Zayn into anything here, but Christ, he suddenly desperately wants to hear Zayn sing with him again.

            Zayn twists the mic but grins up at Liam. “Fine, Leeyum. But you owe me later.”

            “These are just words,” Liam sings out. “And they can never heal the hurt, but if you’ll let me in, underneath your inked up skin then –”

            “I’ll love you until you ask me to stop,” Zayn harmonizes easily, like it hasn’t been years since they’ve done this, and Liam’s heart lurches in his chest. “Or until from my weary feet I drop. I’m used to chasing you, and I’ll do anything to prove I mean it when I say – I promise babe.”

            They sing every single lyric together, and Liam flushes at some of the worse ones, can’t believe how sentimental he got with this song. He sort of wishes it hadn’t gotten so popular, embarrassed by his show of love when he’s singing it to Zayn in front of hundreds.

            But Zayn grins at him the entire time, not moving even a step away. His eyes gleam with amusement and (though he’ll deny it) love for not only Liam but this song. He’s happy, and it’s always a startling revelation for Liam, when he can see that he makes Zayn just as happy as Zayn makes him. It’s everything.

            Liam’s not really surprised when they end the song pressed together, foreheads touching and bodies swaying to the soft music. He’s very aware of the crowd cheering loudly at them, of the band laughing behind them, of the cameras clicking feverishly to capture this moment. He’s aware of all of it, but he still leans forward to snag Zayn’s mouth in a kiss.

            He’s surprised by how readily Zayn responds, but he sinks into the tender kiss, trying to keep it mostly clean. It’s a hard fight when Zayn’s pressed so completely against him, but they manage to reign themselves in when the cheers turn to wolf whistles.

            “Well,” Liam rasps out and then roughly clears his throat. Zayn throws his head back in laughter, and Liam playfully nudges him. “Shut it, you git. It’s your fault.”

            “I’m sorry, babe,” Zayn presses a hand to Liam’s cheek, mischievous eyes giving away his insincerity as he speaks into the mic.

            “No you’re not.”

            “Make it up to you later, yeah?”

            “Promise?” The word is off of Liam’s tongue before he can think about how he shouldn’t because they’re talking into their mics now, but Zayn started it. As the crowd grows louder though, Liam flushes. That damn song; he really wishes it hadn’t become so popular sometimes.

            Zayn just laughs though, pressing another short, sweet kiss to Liam’s parted mouth. “Promise.”

 

* * *

 

_They settle back down like this –_

Liam’s twenty six when he finally gives up on performing for good. He’s tired of it, ready to settle into being just a producer now. Zayn’s twenty seven, and he’s all that Liam really wants (has ever wanted). Zayn and their big house outside of London, their friends and family and maybe something more once Liam hits twenty seven –

 

            “Babe,” Liam calls softly, huddling in the door with a bare chest and bare feet. He’s lingering, waiting for Zayn to be ready for bed, but it’s getting late. He’d love to wait a little longer, give Zayn the time to finish up whatever piece he’s so enthralled in, but the shifting in his arms reminds him that he can’t.

            “Jaan,” he calls again, just a hint louder.

            Zayn’s head rolls up, and he blinks a few times before his eyes actually focus, like he’s coming out of a trance. (It’s how he always gets when he’s working on a new piece, and Liam’s so proud of him, actually selling his art now because he refuses to let Liam be the sole provider, even though they’ve certainly got enough money). His smile goes soft around the edges when he takes in the sight Liam’s sure he makes in the doorway.

            “Babe,” he sighs out, one hand reaching out and begging Liam forward.

            And Liam wants to. He loves stretching out along the floor, his head cradled in Zayn’s lap as Zayn works on his art, canvas spread out on the ground. Any other time and he wouldn’t hesitate to take the invitation, but not tonight.

            “Can’t,” he frowns, shifting his arms again to get more comfortable. “It’s her bed time. I thought you’d want to say goodnight.”

            Zayn’s smile brightens, and he’s scrambling up towards Liam without hesitation. His fingers are covered in paint when he reaches out, and Liam pulls back a bit with narrowed eyes. Zayn rolls his eyes. “It’s dry, Li.”

            “Swear?”

            “Yes,” Zayn whines. “Now let me touch our daughter, babe.”

            Liam’s heart flutters at that – our daughter like he hasn’t heard the phrase a thousand times in the past six months, ever since they got the okay to go pick her up from the hospital. It doesn’t feel like it’s been six months though, not when Liam looks down at little Hadiyyah. It feels like just yesterday that he and Zayn even got approved to adopt a child, and he can remember the tangle of nerves he had in his stomach on the way to the hospital, how Zayn had to grab his hand just to keep him calm. His entire world shifted the moment he picked Hadiyyah up, and it hasn’t turned back since. He doesn’t want it to.

            (It’s mental that he and Zayn have a kid now. Liam doesn’t think he’ll ever really adjust to being a dad, and he knows that the other lads all think it’s just as weird, even though Louis has a couple of his own. All three of them stopped by just after Hadiyyah arrived, and it was madness and wonderful, and Zayn and Liam definitely needed the help, adjusting to having a child to care for. Their families have been around too, gradually stopping by less and less as Zayn and Liam got the hang of it, and now – well Liam’s fairly in love with how his life is right now).

            Zayn’s fingers reach forward again, tangling easily in Hadiyyah’s hair, his thumb tracing gently over her forehead. Hadiyyah coos, but her eyes remain closed as she shuffles closer to the heat of Liam’s bare chest.

            The grin on Zayn’s face as he watches their daughter cuddle into Liam’s arms makes Liam’s hurt lurch painfully in his chest. He’d thought once that he was perfectly content as he was, married to Zayn with their big house and their separate careers and their privacy, but he has no idea how he survived without the little girl in his arms. She completes them, and the way Zayn looks at her... Liam’s kind of desperately in love with it all.

            Zayn’s hand shifts to cover Hadiyyah’s back, fingers spreading between Liam’s so that they’re all three connected, and Liam’s breath hitches just slightly in his throat. He wants suddenly to lay out on the couch, Zayn curled into his side and Hadiyyah laying on his chest. It’s one of his favorite positions these days, all three of them just existing together in late afternoon sunlight.

            Like he knows what Liam’s imagining, Zayn sighs. “Bed, babe?”

            “Are you done?” Liam asks, unwilling to say that he doesn’t want to go to bed without Zayn but even more unwilling to actually do it. He hasn’t slept alone in what feels like years, and he doesn’t care that their entire relationship screams co-dependency.

            Zayn huffs out a fond laugh, hand tracing up Hadiyyah’s back, up further until it tangles in Liam’s hair, grown out on the top once more so that Zayn can tangle his fingers in it when they’re cuddling (or when Liam’s swallowing him to the root and Zayn needs something to grip as his hips stutter – but Liam definitely shouldn’t be thinking about that with their daughter in his arms).

            He shifts, loose trackies sliding a bit lower on his bare hips. Zayn’s eyes follow the movement, pupils dilating the smallest bit as his tongue darts out to dampen his bottom lip like he’s thinking the same thing. And it’s mad to Liam that they still look at each like this – like they can’t get enough, will never get enough of each other’s touch. He still wants Zayn, just as much as he did when he was seventeen and falling headfirst into love for the first (and last) time.

            He coughs to clear his throat, embarrassed smile toying at his lips when Zayn’s eyes snap back up to his. “I’m gonna put her down then. Are you...?”

            Zayn regretfully shakes his head, fingers pulling away and dragging once more over Hadiyyah’s back like he needs to touch her as often as Liam does. “Need to shower first. Bed after?”

            Liam nods easily, the familiar comfort of a domestic pattern crowding him. He thought once that he might go crazy, living this quiet life, but now he can’t imagine anything else. Zayn’s always been enough for him, and now with Zayn and their daughter, he doesn’t want anything else.

            Zayn bends to press a lingering kiss to Hadiyyah’s head, giggling when he spots the onesie Liam’s snuck onto her. “Li, babe, I thought we agreed to stop dressing her as superheroes.”

            Liam flushes but refuses to back down. “It’s Supergirl. Proper heroine and everything.”

            “We can’t force her to like comics, jaan.”

            Zayn’s voice is infinitely fond, and it’s an argument they’ve had a hundred times by now because Liam can’t help but dress Hadi up in Marvel and DC gear. He doesn’t care what Zayn (or Harry) says; he thinks it’s cute.

            “She’s got to like comics though, Z,” he protests. “That’s how I met my soulmate.”

            Zayn melts, eyes a warm caramel as his nose scrunches with the width of his smile. “Sappy boy.”

            “You married me.”

            Zayn shuffles forward, lips pressing sweetly to Liam’s for just a beat. “I did,” he whispers, grinning with his eyes shut as he sinks into Liam, their daughter cradled between them. “And I’ve not regretted it a single day since.”

            Liam tries not to look outrageously pleased by that but probably fails. He’s stupidly in love still, ten years later, and he wouldn’t change a thing. He wants to feel this mad with love for the rest of his life. He wants his heart to flip every time Zayn walks into the room, his dick to twitch every time Zayn gives him _that_ look, his cheeks to hurt every time he smiles because he just can’t hold it back when he looks at Zayn.

            He wants this forever, and he’s confident that he’s going to have it.

            “Bed,” Zayn states, pulling away once more, and this time putting space between them like he needs it just as much as Liam does to actually separate. “Put our daughter to bed, babe, and then, after my shower, I’ll fuck you nice and slow in our bed, yeah?”

            Liam moans and then instantly bites his lips, frowning at Zayn as he checks to make sure Hadi’s still on the edge of sleep against his chest. “Zayn.”

            Zayn just laughs. “She’s only a six months. She doesn’t know.”

            “You’re terrible.”

            “You married me.”

            Liam wishes he could say he doesn’t grin like an absolute idiot at that, but of course he does. With a fond shake of his head, Liam finally turns back around, calling back over his shoulder, “Give me fifteen minutes.”

            “Ten,” Zayn calls softly back, just loud enough for his voice to carry.         

            Liam buries his smile in Hadi’s hair as he carries her down the hall to her nursery. It’s all warm yellows, like the sun dripped along the walls, because Zayn refused to paint it pink and – _She’s going to be the center of our world right Leeyum? So sunshine fits._ It was a ridiculous argument that had Liam caving immediately.

            He likes it though, he can admit as he gentles Hadi down into her crib. She hardly fusses at the transition, fists curling as she settles into sleep. Liam watches her breathe for a bit, just because he can’t stand to leave her yet. He hates leaving her alone at night, even though he _knows_ they can’t keep her in their bed forever. He’s very tempted though.

            Tracing over her features with a light touch, Liam’s mouth twitches because she looks like Zayn. Zayn calls him mental every time he brings it up, but Liam swears that Hadi has his nose. She isn’t theirs biologically, not at all, but still Liam thinks with her dark hair and beautiful eyes, she’ll be as heartbreakingly beautiful as Zayn. Her flushed skin is a shade just between his deep tan and Zayn’s darker tone, and she’s gorgeous. Liam’s not ready for her to get any older, not with all the shit that comes with it, but he’ll be nothing compared to Zayn. Zayn’s going to be a nightmare of an abbu to her when she starts to date. God help the guys that try though. Zayn will probably play up his tattoos when that day comes, relying on that decade old bad boy reputation he never earned. Liam sort of can’t wait.

            “Li.”

            Liam jumps, snatching his hand back guiltily. He glances over his shoulder to see Zayn, shirtless in the doorway with nothing but a pair of Liam’s pants on. He’s leaning against the doorframe, eyes radiating affection as he stares at Liam.

            “How long have you been there?” Liam mumbles, embarrassed to have been caught fawning over their daughter yet again. (And he can’t believe Zayn’s the one who pushed for this, the one who really wanted kids, not when she’s the center of Liam’s whole world now. He’s so glad, every single day, that he eventually agreed, all his fears about being a horrible father soothed with Zayn’s gentle words).

             Zayn just hums noncommittally. “Is she asleep?”

            “Yeah,” Liam releases the word on a breath, fingers dusting over her hair one last time before reluctantly pulling away. He tries not to look back as he wanders over to Zayn, instantly wrapping around the slighter boy.

            Zayn easily falls into his embrace, hooking his chin over Liam’s shoulder. “She’ll be fine, babe. She always is.”

            “I know. I just...”

            “You just like to keep the people you love close,” Zayn fills in. “Oh jaan, I know.”

            Liam buries his head into Zayn’s chest with a sigh, letting Zayn hold them together. It’s amazing to him that Zayn can feel so big when he wraps around Liam like this, but he’s so grateful for Zayn’s willingness to play protector between Liam and the world.

             “Bed,” Liam finally suggests when he feels like he can actually walk away. He pulls away just far enough for them to comfortably stumble their way to their bedroom.

            “But not to sleep,” Zayn answers, with a slightly suggestive roll to his hips.

            Liam hiccups on a laugh, pressing back automatically. “You’re ridiculous.”

            Zayn just shrugs, completely unabashed about the way he’s half-hard in his pants. “Always want you, Li. Can’t help it when you still look that fit.”

            “You always have me, y’know,” Liam answers, the words sounding awkward on his tongue but right somehow.

            The quirk to Zayn’s lip is fond if a bit exasperated. “And you always have me. Now come on. Want to get inside you.”

            Liam laughs as Zayn practically drags him to their bedroom, shaking his head at himself. He can’t believe he fell for a lad like Zayn, all sharp features and quiet exterior but soft and goofy once you get beyond that. It’s a bit sickening honestly how perfect they are for each other, Liam thinks.

            Zayn looks back only once as they almost run down the hall, both so eager suddenly to get inside and strip off these last boundaries, to feel skin against skin and remind each other all over again how much they love one another. His grin is wide and uninhibited, eyes showing every flicker of affection, and Liam knows his face is a perfect mirror. He can only think that he wouldn’t change a thing about this moment or about his life with Zayn.

            They might have gotten married young, and they might have fallen fast and hard for each other, and they might not have had the easiest time, but Liam’s incredibly in love with every piece of their lives together.

            Yeah, he definitely wouldn’t change a thing about his life.

 

            And later, when Zayn’s moving inside of him, thrusting so deep and mumbling nonsense into Liam’s ear as Liam cums with Zayn’s name on his lips for the thousandth time in his life, he thinks it again.

 

            And even later when crying wakes them up and Zayn stumbles back to their bed with Hadi cradled to his chest, nudging Liam over and telling him to shut it when Liam gives him a knowing smirk only to cuddle up to him so all three can fall asleep in a tangle of limbs and heartbeats, he thinks it again.

 

            Liam wouldn’t change a single thing about his life. Not one damn thing.  


End file.
